The New Normal
by EdnaFerber33
Summary: Rick, Carl, Michonne and eventually Daryl after they've left the "Claimers" house. Heavy Richonne feels and now some sexual content. This is my first fanfic, so all reviews, suggestions, comments are welcome. Not sure how long I'm going to keep this one going since I buried the lede. May God have mercy on my soul.
1. Chapter 1

Michonne's stomach rumbled so loudly that she had to chuckle. As she looked up at the fiery winter sky, she sighed and resumed the game she was playing with Carl as they checked traps. At this time of year the air was typically redolent with the aroma of baked apples, suburban chimney smoke, burning leaves, but the forest smelled of decay and death. Michonne vowed to find a way to conquer that by keeping Carl's mind occupied on something as silly as playing the "Last Dinner on Earth" game.

"Roasted chicken with a mountain of mashed potatoes, asparagus with hollandaise sauce and for dessert- crème brulee, "she said dreamily as she frowned at the empty snare.

She, Carl and Rick had been on the run since the Claimers' arrival at their 'home' necessitated them finding other shelter. Carl and Michonne tried to keep things light for the most part and Rick had even started to show his goofy side, but it hadn't been easy. Rabbits, squirrels and berries while keeping them alive, weren't enough. They had to find someplace; a house, an abandoned restaurant or cabin.

"Barbecued ribs, potato salad and then a Butterfinger Blizzard at DQ, "Carl offered as he walked beside his best friend. The waning sun played softly on his maturing face, through the nearly leaf-less branches of the trees.

"That was cruel, Carl. You know I love the DQ!"

They both laughed. Rick removed a family- sized rabbit from the snare and held it up triumphantly.

Rick smiled. "Tonight we dine- on RABBIT!"

"This is madness," Michonne said dramatically, holding her katana at her side.

" This...is...GEORGIA!" Carl chimed in. They'd been using movie quotes to pass the time and the movie "300" was a favorite. They all chuckled as Rick placed the dead rabbit in a burlap sack. Michonne searched the area for anything that could be used late in the season, to supplement their meal.

Finding mushrooms she was familiar with from foraging with her boyfriend so long ago when they'd been "foodies", Michonne went about harvesting them. Carl screwed up his face.

"Ugh. Mushrooms?"

"Only right since you taunted me with thoughts of a Butterfinger Blizzard. Why don't you try to find some wild onions, smart guy?" Michonne pushed Carl with a grin.

Rick stood watching his son and Michonne playfully scuffle and he couldn't help but smile. He felt lucky. especially graced to have this time with them. Michonne with all of her mystery and reluctance to share her past was the best thing to happen to him and Carl. She was a fierce warrior, but so patient and gentle with Carl that he had to struggle with the urge to hug her in gratitude. Was it only gratitude? Rick never had enough time to sort his feelings about anything; much less his feelings for the enigmatic woman Carl was starting to consider his surrogate mother and best friend.

He watched Michonne as she inspected each mushroom before gently blowing the dirt off, her full lips transfixing him, before she placed them in the sack that sat on her hip. Automatically, his eyes wandered. He always felt captivated by her slim, athletic, but unmistakably female form. He loved the feline grace of her walk, the way she wielded her katana, the way her eyes flashed when she spoke, her form-fitting clothes, her…

"Hey, you seeing _thangs_ again?" Michonne asked gently.

Rick shook his head. Holy crap. He hadn't seen Lori for a good long while. He'd thought of her, but she hadn't appeared to him, as a reminder of what could go wrong, in so long that he'd almost forgotten that awful episode in his life. Michonne had helped bring him back. The moment she admitted to something as outrageous as seeing her dead boyfriend and talking to him, with her unwavering honesty, he knew that he could trust her with anything. She had never spoken to him with any expectations of an outcome; she just spoke the truth.

It had been different with Lori. With Lori, he had to carefully measure his words to avoid confrontation. He was always being judged, compared to other men. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't valued himself all that much. He placed so much importance on pleasing his wife because he loved her and that's what you do when you love someone; you show them. He loved waking up beside Lori, though. He liked being married. He had always loved her. There was a time when he only saw Lori; when making her smile was all he'd ever wanted. He'd done everything he could, but not everything that she'd wanted. Even after she betrayed him, he loved her. There was no mistaking both of their failings, but they both adored their son. Perhaps it was because of Carl that they tried to patch things up. Having a common obligation was no way to sustain a marriage. Lori always wanted more than he could give and sometimes Rick hadn't even known what it was that she wanted. She expected him to read her mind but never attempted to accommodate his needs, which were few.

But Michonne was happy when he found berries to satisfy her sweet tooth. She would savor each one and surprisingly, she would share with him and Carl. She didn't mind that Rick wasn't forthcoming about more than their tasks for the day. Michonne accepted Rick and was quick to acknowledge when Carl needed time to be a kid. They had a family unit without trying very hard to forge the union. There was something else there, though. He knew his feelings for Michonne weren't simply feelings of gratitude; he knew that she felt it too.

"No. No. Just thinking, "he lied. _"Yeah, thinking about what it would feel like to finally have you in my arms," he thought._ His neck immediately reddened and he shook his head, pretending to secure the already secure rabbit in his sack.

Michonne shrugged and continued her search. She could feel Rick's eyes on her back, but she didn't care. She was hungry and didn't want to acknowledge the wildness in his gaze. To be candid, she liked it, even if it caused her to feel something she'd promised herself she wouldn't.

Life with him was so normal, if she could use that word to describe living in a state of relentless looming danger, but it was as normal as things could get. They'd formed a little family. There was no artifice; they just spoke the unvarnished truth. They just accepted one another for who they were. They required few words which is something Michonne preferred. Words could complicate things, be misinterpreted and used against you. Still, there were some things that had not been said. She felt them and was sure Rick did as well. It would take time. She looked back at him over her shoulder and smiled.

"You think you can just snare us a varmint and that's it? Start looking for veggies!"  
Rick slowly sauntered over to her with a sly look on his face.

"That's exactly what I think, woman."

Michonne stood up and wheeled around.  
"Oh, really?"

They were face to face; inches apart. She could feel his breath on her face as she searched his eyes, mischievously. He grinned down at her. Rick's cerulean eyes bored into her and suddenly, the playfulness shifted to desire. Michonne could hear her heart beating in her ears, but she met his gaze.

"Yeah, really," was Rick's husky answer. He moved his face closer, tilting his head. He inhaled slowly and grasped her wrist gently. "What are you gonna do about it?"  
In her peripheral vision, Michonne caught a glimpse of Carl approaching. She stepped closer to Rick, said, "I can show you better than tell ya!" and with her left leg, brought Rick to the ground. Carl came running.

"Nice move, Michonne!"  
Michonne trembled as she helped Rick up. If she hadn't seen Carl, she wasn't sure what would have happened. She did want Rick to kiss her; to take her in his strong arms, lean her back and… e_asy girl._

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He smiled up at her, confused. As Michonne dusted the pine needles from Rick's clothes, she lingered on his backside, taking a second to give it a slap. He glanced over his shoulder at Michonne's devilish grin, her deep brown eyes sparkling.

Abruptly, the smile faded; her eyes instantly alert, scanning the terrain. They all heard it and drew their weapons. Wordlessly, the only sound coming from the crunch of dried leaves underfoot, they moved toward their camp, Michonne taking point. The walkers gained ground. The three stood back to back as six walkers approached.

"One for each of us, "Carl joked grimly, preparing to strike the approaching walker.

"I can handle them; we should really make your dad keep foraging, "Michonne said taking the head of two walkers with swift strikes of her katana, not a movement wasted.

Rick threw her a mock dirty look _"Seriously, Michonne?"_ pushing a grotesquely thin walker away and stabbing a second in the head. Two more male walkers approached Carl. Michonne stabbed one through the chest, pivoted and beheaded the second. Carl, never outdone, dispatched another walker and finished off the walker Michonne had stabbed.

"I'm no forager, "Rick grunted, pulling his knife from the skull of the last walker.

Michonne shook her head and motioned for them to continue to their camp; nightfall was a short time away.

After eating, in the diminishing light, they sat around the fire in silence. Michonne and Rick sat on a log, Carl sat next to Michonne at her feet, resting his head against her thigh.

"You're right, Michonne. The 'shrooms weren't all that bad. "

"See? Life isn't all candy bars and chocolate pudding, y'know" she shoved him gently.

"Okay. ONE time I eat 112 ounces of pudding and it's all you talk about."

"With your father wasting away to nothin', "Rick pouted, "Barely alive."

Rick surprised himself when he made light of such a dire situation, but he was so completely happy in that moment, with Carl fully present and Michonne, well, being Michonne that he felt liberated.

"Aww, poor baby, "Michonne teased. "C'mere."

She pulled his head down to her lap and smoothed his hair.

"You okay now?"  
Carl looked up at them, smiling.

Rick grinned foolishly and closed his eyes.

"Just fine."

Impulsively, Michonne leaned down and kissed his temple. Immediately regretting her decision, she pulled away. Determined not to waste a moment, Rick pulled her back to him and kissed her. The kiss was soft and slow. He felt no tension in her lips as he parted them with his tongue. She accepted his kiss with a shy sigh and although her locs provided a curtain of intimacy against Carl's eyes, she slowly pulled away from Rick.

Rick sat up quickly and looked at Carl who looked at both of them with a grin.

"About time, "he said leaning back against Michonne with an air of satisfaction.

Rick snorted and looked at Michonne. Michonne gave him a thin smile and tapped Carl's shoulder, indicating that she wanted to stand up. As she rose, she looked down at Carl and he knew what to do. He stood up slowly, ready to draw his weapon. Rick placed his fingers around his gun and watched her as she walked away with her katana. She looked back over her shoulder and held her finger to her lips for them to be quiet.

_"Walkers, the perfect cock blockers, "_Rick thought as he drew his weapon and followed MIchonne.

Michonne inched closer to the source of the noise, Rick and Carl close behind.

"Hey, I thought I smelled rabbit and thought y'all could use a little squirrel."  
Daryl Dixon grinned at them in the darkness, holding a brace of dead squirrels.

Michonne punched his shoulder in welcome and Carl led them all back to camp.

"Man, I thought I'd never find you, "Daryl sat down on a log and proceeded to clean and dress the squirrels as he spoke. "Been trackin' ya for a coupla days now."

"Well, we're glad you found us. Good to see ya, brother."

Daryl looked at Carl and smiled knowingly, "You're the one tellin' the story, man."

Rick's face reddened. "How long have you been watching us?"

Daryl remained silent as he prepared the squirrels for roasting over the fire.  
"Long enough, I expect."

He looked over at Rick and smiled. "You guys would starve without me. Snare or not."

"You know if anyone else got out?" Michonne wanted to change the subject. She prayed that Judith, Tyrese, Carol and the rest were alive. She poured him what was left of the pine needle tea, which wasn't as bad as it looked. Or smelled.

Accepting the cup with a nod, Daryl shrugged. "I was with Beth for a bit and then we got separated. She's gone, but I can't say she's dead. Dudn't feel like it, y'know? The others…not sure."

Carl looked away and Michonne called him to her. "Let's you and me find some more fire wood, huh?"

Relieved that he wouldn't have to cry in front of the men, Carl picked up his weapon and walked with Michonne into the night.

"You ain't gonna tell 'em to be careful?" Daryl asked, watching Rick watch Michonne. "I am truly amazed, Rick."

Rick's gaze never left the space where Michonne had stood moments before.

"Ah, y'know, Carl's getting older and more responsible and Michonne…" Rick trailed off, looking down at his hands. Gosh, but they were filthy. He was filthy.

"There's a creek another mile or two east. Maybe there'll be some abandoned dwellings, too, "Daryl offered.  
Rick was no longer surprised when Daryl answered Rick's unarticulated questions. He felt a comfort in it. They sat in a companionable silence, while Daryl's squirrels roasted, enjoying their quiet brotherhood until Carl and Michonne returned grinning like they'd won the lottery.

"What is it?" Daryl asked, eager to know what mischief the two of them had managed to create in such a short time and with so little.

They held up a two heavy rucksacks and a shotgun.

"What in the …?" Rick stood up.

Carl was breathless and stammering, "Okay. Okay…so, when we went looking for firewood, we heard something, right? Okay, okay…"

"Carl, you're killing me. Take a couple deep breaths." Michonne laughed.

The boy complied and relaxed with each breath.

"Okay, so basically we found an abandoned camp- well, not exactly abandoned. There were-"

"Walkers. Two of them and Carl took care of them for me because I was too busy looking through the rucksacks to notice, "Michonne finished giving Rick a barely perceptible wink.

"This is why I don't like you going off alone. Always take someone with you, "Rick admonished.

Carl looked at Daryl who simply shrugged and said, "What else did you expect, Rick? The kid's been handlin' himself for a long time now. He ain't no slouch."

Carl dropped the rucksack and carefully removed the contents and placed them near the fire pit for closer inspection. For their trouble, in the first rucksack they'd found a box of Ohio blue tip matches, a paperback book, a razor, a bar of soap, cans of beans and a bag of stale fruit leather along with assorted socks, thermal underwear and shirts. In the second, cans of tuna, powdered milk, instant coffee and more clothing, none of which would fit Michonne or Carl.

Rick proffered a roasted squirrel to Daryl and he ate it in silence, watching Michonne as she held up each item of clothing.

"Dibs on the socks, "Daryl said between bites of the squirrel.

"I can make this work, "Michonne said trying on a flannel shirt. She moved into the shadows and removed her other garments save for her bra and jeans. The shirt smelled clean and she regretted putting it on a body not fully bathed in 4 days. It was 3 sizes too big, but she didn't care. She came back to join the others and found them suppressing smiles. Michonne looked down at herself and had to admit that she looked like she was wearing a flannel maternity dress.

"Aw, nah…ain't she cute?" Daryl laughed.

Michonne said nothing and plopped down between him and Carl. Carl leaned against her, yawned and was snoring almost immediately. Daryl removed his poncho and handed it to Michonne to place over the boy.  
"Gotta take a piss, "was all he said as he rose to walk away.

Michonne shifted so Carl could lie down and placed some wadded up clothes under his head for a pillow. His face was so soft and calm when he first fell asleep. She saw more of the boy then and she loved to look at him, count the freckles, and memorize his face as it was in that moment. Even though she was as happy and secure as she could be under the circumstances, she knew that it could all change with one misjudgment, the one time she let her guard down, so she allowed herself this singular luxury and savored the moment.

"I don't see my little boy anymore, "Rick murmured as he slid down next to Michonne.

"Oh, but I do, "Michonne whispered. "Maybe I'm the only one who can see it because I didn't know him when he was a little boy. Maybe I just see what I want to see. At least I'm seeing people who are really here, right?"  
She looked into the fire, smiling.

"I hear that, "Rick laughed. "It's something you can't explain to many people."

"Hell, you don't want to explain it to anyone. You already think you're crazy, so why give someone else the opportunity to confirm it?" Michonne slid her hand underneath Rick's so that his palm rested on the back of her hand and she bounced his hand up and down, just being in contact with his skin was enough. It was a shy, innocent move and Rick was perfectly happy to feel the surprisingly soft skin of her hand against the calloused palm of his.

"Hey. I wanna ask you something," Rick whispered, looking at their hands.

"Yup," Michonne continued to bounce their hands distractedly.

"You wanna be my girl?"

They both broke out in a fit of laughter that slowly subsided as Michonne put her head on Rick's shoulder. He kissed her forehead and they sat like that for a half an hour, an utterly happy cuddle in silence. As much as he wanted her, Rick realized that it wasn't wholly lust that he felt for the woman in his arms and he finally relaxed for the first time in months. For her part, Michonne didn't feel that she was on alert, for the first time in a long time, she felt protected and she snuggled closer. Rick pulled away from her gently and took her face in his hands. They kissed, Michonne running her fingers through Rick's hair, pulling him closer to her. She bit his lower lip as Rick slid his hand under her shirt.

"Hey, you never said 'yes'," Rick murmured into her ear before he kissed her neck.

"'I'm letting you get to second base, aren't I?" Michonne moaned softly.

"I could never remember the bases. Is this second or third?"

And then Daryl approached them.

"About time, "he said as he plopped down on the other side of the fire pit. "That's second base; worse than high school kids."

Rick removed his hand from under Michonne's over-sized shirt, and instead wrapped his arms around her; why fight it when everyone they know has already accepted it?

Daryl proceeded to make his bed for the night, got comfortable, draped his forearm over his eyes and as he did so, said, "I seen that camp Carl and 'Chonne seen. It's cleaned up. If you two wanna see if there's anything left, I'm cool."

Michonne and Rick exchanged a hopeful look and then Daryl added, "But Grimes, I'm tellin' ya, I want that tent door OPEN, y'hear me?" The firelight shone on Daryl's smiling face as they nearly ran past him.

"About time,"he muttered again before turning on his side so he could face where Carl was sleeping.


	2. Chapter 2

Michonne led Rick to the abandoned camp site, turning to look back at him expectantly every few steps. She felt giddy in anticipation of being alone with the man – her man. That fact caused her to stumble. Rick steadied her. He too, felt unsteady. He was actually nervous again. What did she expect of him once they were alone in the tent? What did he expect of her?

"Hey, get out of your head, "Michonne whispered. "I'm right here. We're fine."

Rick stood with her in the faint moonlight that filtered through the tree tops, catching his breath, appreciating her beauty and not wanting to make the first move.

"You're a knockout, you know that?" he said, his head tilted to the side the way he always did when he wanted his words to have an impact on the listener.

Michonne smiled up at him, "And you are sexy because you don't know how sexy you are. "

"Whaat? I'm no Romeo, Michonne." Rick was incredulous. Not once had he thought himself sexy. He'd barely even dated in high school. Lori was the second girl he'd ever had sex with and he'd fallen in love with her almost immediately. Maybe Shane was right; Rick had no game.

"Rick, sexy is being present. Not giving presents. Flattery may get you in some woman's bed, but it won't keep you there, nor will it get you in her heart. Ugh, that sounded so corny." Michonne turned away from him, embarrassed.

"I like corny. Come here, "Rick said pulling Michonne to him. He stood behind her, hugging her close. "There's so much I want to know about you, share with you- I honestly don't know where to begin."  
Michonne sighed, leaning back into him and said quietly, her voice trembling as she bit back tears, "Some things I can't say too often because they take too much out of me. I'll tell you what I can, when I can."

She turned around to face him, taking his head in her hands and looking intently into his eyes.

"I trust you with my life and my heart. Whatever happens tomorrow, right now, in this moment, I'm your girl."

Rick's eyes misted over and he looked away. Michonne forced him to look at her, unashamed of her own tears trailing down her cheeks.

"All in. No bullshit."  
Rick kissed her before saying, "All in. No bullshit."

"That's all you need to know in this moment. So…"

"So, what, Michonne?" Rick asked snaking his arm around her slim waist.

"So kiss me like you mean it."

Rick complied with her request, pulling her to him roughly, causing Michonne to utter a tiny squeak.  
Rick thought it such a girly response that he chuckled before nibbling her lower lip. Michonne pressed herself against him, feeling him harden against her as their kiss intensified. Rick unbuttoned the over-sized flannel shirt keeping him from Michonne's skin and she shed it easily.

He kissed her bare shoulder lovingly in spite of the passion he felt for her, wanting to prolong their time alone. Michonne shuddered with pleasure with each kiss, pulling away only once to shed Rick of his shirt. The feeling of his naked flesh against hers was a heady experience for Michonne and her knees buckled briefly.

"I want you so much, I don't think I realized how much until right now, "Rick moaned.

"Not now. Not yet." Michonne whispered.

This conflicted with the information being transmitted from inside her pants. If Rick had been a more forward man, he would have realized that Michonne was as wet as she had ever been in her life. She was more than ready.

He pulled back and looked at her, understanding immediately; they'd not bathed in days. He'd noticed how dirty he was earlier. It was so funny; they really were in synch with one another;the twinkle in his eyes communicated to Michonne that he understood and agreed with her.

"So, second base is all we get? Damn!"

Michonne feigned a demure pose and countered with, "I couldn't go past second. All the girls would talk about me in study hall."

"We didn't have girls like you in high school," Rick said sitting down on a fallen log.

"_I_ wasn't a girl like me in high school," Michonne replied, leaning down to retrieve their shirts.

"What do you mean?"  
Rick grabbed her hand and pulled her down beside him.

"Well, I was a grade grubber, for one."

"No! I hated those kids. They'd get a 97 and argue for extra points." Rick pulled away from her, laughing, "I don't know if I can accept this aspect of your personality."

"I can only speak the truth. It's true. I am a reformed grade grubber. I got over it in college, though. What about you?"

"I was an average student, not too bright, afraid of girls. About the same as now, "Rick laughed.

Michonne straddled his lap, "I would have dated you in high school. I'll bet you were sweet and earnest- just like now."

"I would have preferred sexy and hot, like my friend Shane. He was... "Rick said looking away, his mood darkening.

Michonne tilted her head, catching his attention. "Hey, no storm clouds…don't shut me out."

"Ah, it's bad memories. Shane was my best friend."

Rick let out a long sigh, "It's complicated."

"We make life complicated, Rick. The truth hurts, but it's usually very simple. I don't want our relationship to be based on shared trauma, but if it helps you to hear about my dead boyfriend, I'll tell you," Michonne pulled him to her. Neither of them had bothered to replace their shirts, so they sat topless, Michonne only in her bra.

"Michonne, you don't have to-"

"We had a child together. A son. Andre Anthony. So precious. And ...wasn't a strong man. Our son…the walkers got him."  
Rick held her tighter.

"Oh, Michonne…"

"You know those walker pets they told you I had?" Michonne pulled away and got up.

Rick sat staring at her back. He didn't know what to say, so he said, "Doesn't matter. It's the past. We can't keep dancing with those ghosts. "  
He got up and pulled her close to him, resting her head on his bare chest. He could feel the hot tears he couldn't see trailing down her face, mingling with the dampness on his chest. Rick held her tighter and kissed the top of her head.

"Y'know, my father used to read Aeschylus to me when I was a little girl. Blame him for me being a grade grubber."

They both laughed and she extricated herself from their embrace to retrieve the flannel shirt. The night air had cooled so she shrugged it on. Rick followed suit and pulled Michonne to him, raining kisses on her tear stained face.

"My dad read the police blotter to me, which is why I'm a cop, "Rick laughed. "We all have our burdens to bear."

"'He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom by the awful grace of God'," Michonne murmured. "I never understood that until… all of this happened."


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Daryl awoke to find Michonne sitting up staring at him. A smile played across her lips.

"Not a word," Michonne said flatly as she stood up to stretch.

"Did you bring back the ammo?" Daryl asked as he stoked the fire that Michonne had obviously been tending through the night.

"Yep, we also brought back some other stuff. They had more coffee and a small amount of sugar. There was a compass, too. Think Carl would like that?" she asked, slipping it inside Carl's backpack.

Daryl prepared a kettle with the last of the bottled water and shrugged.

"Suppose he will. We oughta wake 'em up. You get any sleep?"

Michonne went through some easy yoga poses as she answered him, "About 3 hours. I feel slow, but I'm alert. It's okay."  
"We need to get outta this place. That truck got gas?" Daryl asked indicating the banged up Suburban parked near their camp.

"We haven't been using it, so probably a half a tank," Rick answered, sitting up. He smiled up at Michonne, who blushed before picking up her katana to practice her forms.

Rick stood up, stretched and toed at Carl to wake him. Carl grumbled, but rolled over and opened his eyes.

"What's for breakfast?"  
"I heard some wild pigs around here. Might see if we can get us one, "Daryl said checking his crossbow.

"That would be awesome!" Carl exclaimed. "Can I come with you?"  
He jumped up, looking at Rick expectantly.

"Well, I don't see why not. Just follow his lead and if it looks like it's gonna take you too long, just come back here. We do have to get movin'- we can't be exposed like this." Rick checked his gun for ammunition and looked back at Carl with a slight smile. He motioned for them to get a move on.

"Let him eat something first, "Michonne called from her spot near the truck.

"Can of beans?" Rick offered.

Carl accepted the can and went to his bag for a can opener. As he felt around in the backpack, he pulled out the compass with a smile.

"Where'd this come from?" he asked looking at his father.  
"Your fairy godmother," Daryl said pointing at Michonne with one of his arrows. "The fletchin' on these things ain't gonna last. I need to make some new arrows. Hey, Carl we're gonna need to get us some birds."

After Carl and Daryl had eaten their breakfast of cold beans and leftover squirrel, also cold, they headed out to hunt. Rick kicked at the dirt absently, trying to think of something to say to Michonne who was doing pushups.

She looked up at him. "What?"

Rick blushed. "Nothin'. Any ideas where we should go before we head to Terminus?"

Michonne continued to perform her morning routine as she spoke to him.

"No idea. Daryl is right- we can't remain in one place and I want to see if we can find the others. I don't want to give up on them." _Am I selfish to want more time with you before we're back to the reality of this fucked up world?_

Rick looked at her wistfully; he knew that she wanted more time together, he wanted it too, and in a perfect world they'd have a protracted courtship; they didn't have that luxury. It was a painful reminder that he needed to shake off for the time being. It brought his mind back to Judith. He couldn't let her go. Michonne lost her child to the terrifyingly chaotic world that was their reality; he wasn't going to lose hope for his baby girl.

He stared at the morning sky. "Red sky in mornin', sailor take warnin'- we are gonna need shelter."

He watched Michonne continue to exercise, her expression inscrutable and then went to check the snares, thankful for time to think.

Daryl and Carl walked through the woods wordlessly as Daryl pointed to the tracks they followed. Daryl leaned down and picked up some excrement, crushed it between his fingers and smiled.

"We're close."  
Carl made a dramatic gagging sound. "Was that pig poop?"

"Uh-huh. More to trackin' then just lookin' at the ground, man. Let's go. And be careful, these bad boys are mean as shit," Daryl cautioned.

Just then, they heard the trampling of an animal and a wild pig charged at them. Carl fumbled with his gun, but Daryl pushed his arm down and pointed his crossbow at the animal, quickly using his free arm to steady as he aimed and shot.

The creature went down, but it wasn't a kill shot. The two approached the animal, Daryl pulling his hunting knife out to finish the pig off.

"Man that was quicker than I expected. Let's get back," he grunted, tying the pig's front legs together with the last of the zip ties he'd hoarded from the prison. "Get the back ones so we can string it up to a branch or somethin'. I ain't carryin' this by myself." He tossed a zip tie to Carl and they strung up the dead pig quickly.

"That was so cool, Daryl! You gotta teach me to use the crossbow!" Carl said excitedly as they tramped back to camp with their spoils.

"You're a damn fine shot with a gun; let me have my thang, will ya?" Daryl joked.

The faint sound of a walker's groan slowed them to a stop.  
"Aw, shit, man, "Daryl sighed as he dropped the pig.

"I don't want to give it up, "Carl said drawing his hunting knife.

Daryl surveyed the area.  
"Hey, it's only one. Pick it up and let's boogie!"

They ran through the woods and back to the camp to find Rick gone and Michonne surrounded by a gang of men.

"We'll take that pig," the man who acted as the leader said smiling.

"Shit, "Carl muttered.

The expression on Michonne's face was impassive, but she was assessing the situation. Her katana was at her feet. If she could get her toe underneath it, she would be able to take her assailant by surprise. The trick was getting the weapon at the right spot without looking down at it or calling attention to her movements. Daryl made a slight nod in her direction.  
"Awright, but I keep the woman, "he said with a smirk. "And the boy."

"That ain't fair, Dave!" cried Jeff, the dirtiest of the bunch. His matted long brown hair rested on what was left of his denim jacket which was soiled with blood, oil, dirt and whatever else he'd come in contact with over the weeks.

"Well, Jeff…Fair's fair. As they say, 'ya snooze, ya loose'. I'm alright with it," Dave waved his gun magnanimously at Daryl. "She's all yers. But that pig's gotta come to papa!"

As Daryl and Carl moved toward Dave with the dead animal, Michonne flipped her katana up and into her hand with a deft kick of her left foot. She moved into a strike pose and smiled at Jeff and the others as they drew their weapons.

"Now, now…let's not let this get ugly. We've got everything we need here. Including their truck, so let's leave 'em be. We've still gotta find the ass sucker who took my woman," Dave grinned, accepting the pig and motioning for Steve, a heavy-set biker, to grab the other side.

"Jeff, take the other end so's we can put it in the truck," Steve grunted.

As Jeff took the other end of the pig, Daryl noticed Rick slowly approaching their camp and put his head down.  
Rick hid behind a tree. He was 20 yards away from his family who seemed to be in danger, but Daryl's slight movements confirmed that he had it under control.

"You've got what you want, so take it and leave us alone," Michonne growled; her katana poised to strike.

"I'll tell ya man, she is saucy. I've got a mind to renege on the deal. The blacker the berry and all that," Dave laughed, moving closer to Michonne.

Rick watched blood boiling and desperate to run to her but he waited, his breath coming in short gasps.

Dave stepped closer to Michonne and she struck, cutting his hand. She showed restraint, which was her undoing. Dave slapped her hard and she dropped her katana. She backed away from Dave, Carl leveled his gun at him as Rick screamed, "Carl, no!"

It felt as if he were running through molasses as Rick ran to his son. Daryl shot Jeff in the shoulder, but Steve grabbed Carl just as Rick reached him.

Using his gun as a cudgel, Rick cracked Steve in the head, knocking him down.

Dave had Michonne gripped around the neck and with his other hand, fumbled at her clothes. Rick charged at the man, growling and pushed him to the ground. He pummeled the man and pulled his knife.

"I want you all gone. Leave what you stole or I swear I'll kill you all, "Rick said evenly.

Michonne and Daryl exchanged a look, but Daryl held his crossbow on Steve. Michonne retrieved her sword and held the tip under Jeff's throat.

"Fuck you, man, "Dave spat, challenging Rick.

"Not today," Rick whispered driving his knife into Dave's shoulder causing the man to scream for mercy.

Jeff and Steve immediately took off running in the opposite direction of the camp.

Carl ran to Michonne and she held him tight. Rick stepped off Dave with a grunt; Daryl assisting in bringing the man to his feet.

"Follow your friends," Daryl growled motioning over his shoulder.

"This ain't the end!" Dave shouted as he ran to find his crew.

"Maybe not, "Daryl said. "But next time, it might be us surprisin' y'all."

In the minutes it took for everyone to confirm that they'd not been injured, they decided to break camp and find shelter. With Daryl in the driver's seat, they drove in relative silence until Carl spoke up.

"I really did not want to give up the pig, "he grinned.

"Me neither, "Daryl said.

Rick, who was in the passenger seat, leveled an incredulous gaze at Carl. The teenager didn't seem shaken by the recent events. Carl just shrugged at his father and looked out the window.

"Well, as soon as we get settled in, we'll talk about your language," Rick complained turning around. He exchanged a look with Daryl who shrugged and looked out at the desolate road ahead.

The truck's motion and the quiet in the cab lulled Michonne to sleep; she couldn't help it. She'd not had much sleep in the past few days and felt her body relaxing. Against her will, she dozed off.

_Michonne sat at her desk reading through a legal brief. She was still dressed in her work clothes when Mike, her handsome partner came in the room dressed in a sport jacket and jeans. "Hey, we're supposed to go out to dinner with the Millers. Why aren't you ready yet, girl? Put the work away and put your party clothes on!" he smiled down at her and kissed her on the cheek._

"_I can't go out. Too much work, love." She looked up at his smiling face with a frown._

"_No, baby- you're gonna get your fine ass in a dress to show off those legs and we're going to the Millers'. No excuses, woman!" he leaned down to kiss her and as Michonne reached up to embrace him, she noticed that he was armless._

"_Oh, alright…but what about André?" she asked, not acknowledging his mutilated appendages._

"_André? He's gone, baby."  
"Noooo," Michonne moaned, pushing Mike away from her._

"No!" Michonne jolted upright and opened her eyes. She felt disoriented and nauseated, so she rolled down her window.

Daryl looked at her via the rearview mirror, but said nothing.

Rick turned around in his seat and reached back to take her hand. Her eyes flashed, not recognizing him for a brief second, her body tense. Rick gave her hand a light squeeze, Michonne's eyes softened and she squeezed back. Carl looked out the window, feeling her pain but not knowing what to do for her.

"Hot damn! Looka there!" Daryl exclaimed suddenly. They'd turned off to a suburban area that looked relatively walker-free. Pulling into the furthest driveway down the street, Daryl parked and cut the engine.

"Alright, everybody, you know what to do, "Rick dropped Michonne's hand and they all retrieved their weapons and exited the vehicle.

As they approached the house, Rick motioned for Daryl and Michonne to go around the back of the house while he and Carl took the front door, with Rick as primary. Carl tried the door and discovered that it was unlocked. Rick eased in, with his weapon ready.

Around the back of the house, Daryl gestured at a propane tank on the property. Michonne smiled; they might have hot water and cooking gas. If the place had food, it would be heaven on earth.

Looking past him, to the back door of the house, Michonne saw three walkers trying to get in. There might be walkers inside the house as well, so she said a silent prayer for Rick and Carl's safety.

Daryl aimed and shot one walker as he and Michonne crept to the back deck of the house. Michonne made short work of the other two and as Daryl retrieved his arrow, tried to open the back door. Locked.  
"Shit. Wanna go back around the front?"

"Hell yeah, I don't want to get shot. Jigglin' doorknobs means walkers," Daryl said as they both jogged to the front.

Inside, Rick and Carl encountered but one problem; the smell. Rotting food was left in the refrigerator and it was particularly piquant.

"Gaaah!" Carl shook his head and pulled his shirt up over his nose and mouth.

Rick went to the kitchen window to open it and saw Daryl and Michonne's handiwork.

"Hey, Carl, go let Daryl and Michonne in. Looks like they secured the area."

They unloaded the truck efficiently and quietly, aware that the pig would pose a problem unless they butchered it and smoked some of it at least, and soon.

Daryl set about preparing the animal with Rick and Carl checking the grill on the deck for propane.

Once alone with Daryl, Michonne spoke quietly.

"Hey"

"Hey, yerself. Ya know we need a washtub or somethin'. An' if we wanna do it right, we need to build a fire, singe some of these…" he turned away from his work and looked at Michonne.

She was chewing on her lower lip, something he noticed she did when she was upset. Daryl dropped his knife turned around and hopped up on a free space on the counter.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"I feel like I'm going crazy," Michonne whispered. "I have these dreams…"

"I ain't gonna tell ya it's okay, 'cause nothin's okay. We all have nightmares. Shit, my whole life has been kind of a nightmare. I think I'm the only one who has benefited from this shit. Ain't _that_ a bitch?" he smiled at her and lifted one shoulder. "You an' me, we're a lot alike- don't talk much, don't show our feelings. That don't mean we don't have 'em. "

He hopped off the counter, picked up his knife but set it back down, staring out the window.

"You and Rick need to find me a washtub so I can butcher this thing without havin' to use the bathtub. Whyn't you go find me one?"

Michonne rose slowly and walked out of the room. That was the most Daryl had said to her in the time she'd known him. When he spoke, which wasn't often, he didn't mince words. Oddly, she felt better after Daryl's speech. She put on a smile and approached Carl and Rick, who were starting the grill.

"I don't know how Daryl can breathe in there, but he's in the kitchen. Says he needs a washtub or something so he can butcher the meat without having to use the tub. Wanna go on a scavenger hunt?" she asked.

Rick looked up as Carl put his hat back on and checked his gun.

"Be careful," Rick said distractedly to Carl.

"Hey, I meant you. Daryl wants Carl to help him with something."

Carl put his weapon back in his waistband and headed back inside the house. He didn't put up a fight with his usual teenage truculence, which surprised both Rick and Michonne.

"Alright, then," Rick smiled, watching Carl. He checked is gun for ammo and followed Michonne to the next house.

Once cleared of walkers, they searched the garage for anything that could accommodate the pig's carcass.

Michonne sidled next to Rick and whispered, "I think I'm crazy. I'm sorry."

"We're all crazy, Michonne. You ain't the Lone Ranger."  
He shoved her playfully. That was that. _I love you and we're gonna be okay._

"Just giving you full disclosure, "Michonne said, dragging a truck bed liner out.

"That looks heavy. Let's forego searching the house for food and get it back to Daryl, huh?" Rick grabbed the other end and slid it a few feet before dropping it. He walked to the garage door and closed it. In the dim light, he moved to stand before the woman he loved and pulled her to him.

"All in. No bullshit." When their lips met, all doubts Michonne had melted away and she gave in to her carnal desires, pressing herself against him wantonly. She could feel something akin to liquid heat turning her spine to jelly.

"My pants are getting' mighty tight," Rick murmured. "Let's get outta here before we..."  
Michonne pulled away smiling.

"Yeah, "she sighed."Gotta take care of business first."


	4. Chapter 4

With the pig butchered, the group busied themselves cooking it. Daryl and Carl had managed a make-shift smoker utilizing some mesquite chips and a grill they'd scavenged from an adjacent house. Pleased with himself Carl tended the smoker while Michonne found ingredients to flavor the meat.

"Hey, that rub smells pretty good, "Rick said as he passed by her in the kitchen.

Michonne never stopped her work, but she looked up at him and smiled. The gas stove worked, so she improvised a barbecue sauce in addition to the spice rub she was mixing.

"I just hope you like the way it tastes; I like spicy food." Michonne said off-handedly. "Hey, check the barbecue sauce. It's about ready."  
Rick took a spoon and tasted it. Michonne had managed to create a more than passable homemade sauce with very few ingredients. He turned to her in shock.

"You made this? Hot damn, woman!"

"I'm not just a pretty face and katana prodigy, y'know. Turn the burner off and bring it out to Daryl."  
In a few hours, they'd managed to break down a wild pig, create a smoker, set a table, improvise side dishes from the canned goods and foraged vegetables. They looked at one another in amazement as they sat down to enjoy their feast.

"I don't want to jinx us, but…"Daryl started.

"Then don't." the other three said in unison.

As they chuckled, Rick's thoughts turned to Morgan, the man who had saved his life and shared his home. That meager meal was the first that he'd had since he'd been shot. Morgan and Duane said grace, in true appreciation and gratitude. Rick felt that same gratitude.

"Hey, uh…I'm not a religious man, but let's…" Rick reached for Carl and Michonne who sat on either side of him and Daryl reached across to Carl as Michonne took his other hand.

"Lord, if you're there…thank you for this. Anyone else wanna say something?" he asked looking around.

"Good bread, good meat, good lord, let's eat," Michonne said grinning over at Carl.

"Hey, I just thought of something, 'Chonne. Remember when we…" Carl's voice trailed off. Their game was "The Last Meal on Earth" and suddenly he was filled with dread;they were sitting down to barbecued ribs.

"There's no Butterfinger Blizzard, my friend. So that's that." Michonne placed her napkin on her lap daintily.

They all tucked in, passing bowls and platters, celebrating their own Thanksgiving. After they'd had their fill, Michonne excused herself from the table and returned with a dish covered in foil. When she removed the foil, she revealed a bubbling apple crisp.

"When did you have time…?" Carl asked.

Michonne smiled at him, "Don't get excited, those apples were pretty mingy looking, so we might not survive."

Carl beamed up at his surrogate mother/best friend and proceeded to serve her first.

"I'm about to bust as it is, "Daryl groaned, unbuttoning the button of his jeans and leaning back.

"Oh? So I can have yours?" Rick asked holding out his plate to Michonne.

"Aw, hell no brother. There's always room for dessert. "Daryl picked up his plate in a flash. He'd never had family meals, let alone a post-apocalypse Thanksgiving like the one he was enjoying now. It was true, what he'd said to Michonne; he had blossomed in the aftermath of the apocalypse. He'd proven something to himself, if no one else; he was a leader, he was capable and he was valuable. Things he'd never been told he could ever be. All of the beatings, the harsh life he'd led up until now prepared him for this. As he looked around the table at the people who were his family, he felt gratitude and that was enough.

Carl went to check the smoker as the others cleaned up. Storm clouds had promised rain earlier, but so far, the night sky was clear; they'd been lucky.

He listened to the crickets and the low hoot of an owl and thought about what had happened at the camp. He'd wanted to kill those men. He didn't want them to get away. He vowed to himself that he would always be on the lookout for them and if he ever found them again, he would not let them get away. Seeing that the smoker needed no further tending, he went back into the house to help and found the three adults sitting in the living room, candles and oil lamps cast a warm glow on them.

"Smoker's okay, "he remarked and sat next to Michonne on the couch.

"Good. You get to shower first," Michonne said to him. "Be quick about it, though. I wanna go next."

"You're bossy, Michonne!" Carl joked.

"I buttered you up with that apple crisp. You are powerless under my spell."

"He ain't the only one, "Daryl mumbled, leaning back in the recliner. He fell asleep immediately, snoring lightly.

Carl took his backpack upstairs, leaving Rick and Michonne alone on the couch.

"Is he really asleep?" Rick whispered leaning close to Michonne.

"I hope so. He sleeps less than we do. I don't know how he does it." Michonne got up and placed a crocheted afghan over Daryl lovingly.

She turned to look at Rick who met her gaze with adoration.

"You're cute," he said stifling a yawn and leaned back, closing his eyes.

"I'm exhausted," she said to a now snoring Rick. _This is the effect I have on men lately, huh?_

Michonne covered Rick with a blanket and made her way upstairs with her backpack.

Carl was singing in the shower; some old cartoon theme song. She smiled and walked into what she presumed was the master bedroom. Searching through dresser drawers, she found clean, but definitely un-sexy panties and clean socks. She sat on the bed waiting for Carl to wind up his shower and looked at herself in the mirror across from the bed.  
_Look at yourself. You're a mess. If anyone needs a shower, it's you, woman. It's a good thing Rick loves you 'cause…Wow, I'd never acknowledged that until right now. Shit. I'm in love. What am I? 12? Stop being so girly. Ugh._

She made a face at herself in the mirror, sticking her tongue out.

"You okay?" Carl asked, standing at the door with wet hair and a smile.

"Yeah, just making fun of myself, that's all. Was that Chip 'n Dale you were singing?"  
Carl blushed. "Yeah, it was. Somehow, I got it stuck in my head."

"Listen, I used to watch cartoons- in the not so recent past. Nothing to be ashamed of, Carl. We can drive your dad crazy singing theme songs. Keep that in mind. It's my turn for the shower and I cannot wait another second!"  
Michonne dashed by Carl and into the bathroom with her toiletries and clothes.

"The water feels great!" Carl called to her.

He made took the stairs swiftly and walked by the sleeping men with a curious look on his face. He was going to sneak some more apple crisp and sit on the back deck to enjoy it. Carrying his bowl and gun with him, Carl settled down in a chair and savored each bite. It was quiet but he was on alert. He wouldn't be ambushed a second time.

As Michonne stepped into the shower, she let out a sigh of pleasure. The stream of hot water relaxed her instantly. As she lathered her body with the citrus scented shower gel left by the previous occupants, Michonne's mind wandered with thoughts of Rick sleeping downstairs. Once she was clean, she could urge him upstairs for a quick shower and they could resume their lovemaking. He was a good kisser and she wanted to explore his other talents.

She hummed a song; eyes closed, her back reaping the benefits of the massaging shower head, and reached for the bottle of shower gel. A hand found hers. She opened her eyes and looked at Rick's determined face as he opened the shower curtain and stepped in beside her.

Michonne held her breath as she fully comprehended what was happening. Rick stood before her, naked. Even bloodied and bruised, he was beautifully sexy. Michonne shifted so the water would splash on Rick and proceeded to wash him gently with her washcloth. She kissed every newly washed spot, taking her time down his body until she arrived at his hips. She turned him around with his back to her and began to wash his back, using the same technique; gently kissing each clean area then she moved forward, pressing her breasts into his back and reached down to caress his hardening manhood.

Slowly, she tended to him, kissing his back pressing closer into him until Rick turned around and pressed his mouth on hers; their tongues probing softly, taking their time. Rick nibbled at Michonne's full lower lip, holding it between his teeth before plunging back in with a kiss of increasing intensity.

Michonne moaned softly as Rick's hand cupped her breast, his thumb gently moving over her nipple with increasing force until it was hard, inviting him to take it between his lips. Her knees buckled and she leaned against him.

"Turn the shower off," she gasped, laughing.

She stepped out of the shower, pulled the curtain aside and Rick watched her as she dried off, never taking her eyes from his. He watched as she dried her breasts, slowly, teasing him. It was then that he turned off the shower and went to her. She dropped her towel as Rick picked her up and sat her on the vanity in the bathroom, spreading her legs and entering her in one swift movement.

Michonne's eyes widened as he entered her and they both moaned with pleasure. Rick held himself inside her, not moving; he looked deep into her eyes and pulled her closer to him. He felt her walls contract around him, but he still didn't move. They clutched at one another as they kissed, Michonne undulating her hips, Rick finding his rhythm with her, slowly at first, Rick wanting to savor each thrust inside her. Michonne bit his shoulder and he moved faster, each time he thought she might be reaching her climax, he slowed down to a deliciously tortuous pace, taking her nipple between his lips once more.

"I'm close," Michonne whispered licking his ear.

"I know," Rick answered, pulling out of her, picking her up and taking her to the master bedroom where he laid her on the bed.

Moments later, as they lay with Michonne's leg draped over Rick's, Michonne said, "I'm hungry" and slipped from the bed.

"You're always hungry," Rick murmured, rolling onto his side to watch her dress.

After a beat he said, "See if there's any more of that apple crisp."


	5. Chapter 5

They occupied the following three days with strategy and scavenging the neighborhood for more food. They'd been wise not to use the food they'd found at the camp site and left it in the truck. Daryl had found another vehicle with more gas and parked it next to their beat up Suburban. They all knew that their idyll was only temporary, so they wasted no time preparing for a quick departure.

Carl and Rick wrapped the smoked meat in waxed paper, foil and then zippered plastic bags when Michonne and Daryl entered with the last of any booty they would find in the neighborhood; canned sardines, marshmallows, peanut butter, Vienna sausages, batteries, some canned evaporated milk and instant oatmeal.

It wasn't a bad haul, but they'd not found any ammunition, which is what they truly needed.

"There's gotta be a sporting goods store or sumthin' around here, "Daryl muttered to Michonne. "We could take a short run in one of them smaller cars, 'y'know?"

"There's a phone book in the kitchen- let's take a look before we go out."

Michonne came back to the room with the yellow pages and they began their search. Seeing that there was a sporting goods store not far off, Rick decided to take Carl and leave Michonne and Daryl behind to pack the new vehicle.

"If we're not back in an hour, I want you two to get out. We'll meet at Terminus." Rick leaned over to give Michonne a peck on the cheek and turned to leave.

She said nothing, just looked at him. After he and Carl left, Daryl said, "We're followin' 'em, right?"  
Michonne smiled at him, "Daryl, why do we bother talking to one another?"

Daryl picked up a bag that he'd packed with some of their provisions and shrugged.

Carl and Rick drove off in silence, as usual, with Carl looking out the window.

"Hey Dad?"

Rick looked over at his son briefly. Carl looked as if he had something important to say, so he encouraged him. "What's on your mind, son?"  
"Well, if you and Michonne have a baby, will you let me name it or will you guys want to?"  
Rick stopped the car so abruptly that Carl jerked forward and his hat flew off.

"What?" Rick asked, attempting to sound calm despite slamming the breaks.

"Well, it's not like I don't know where babies come from." Carl said simply, placing his hat back on his head and scowling at his father.

Rick resumed driving, but cast a glance at his son.

"What makes you think we're gonna have a baby?"

Carl looked at him like he had three eyes.

"You're seriously asking me that question, Dad? We all know you're doin' it."

_Oh, lord. I haven't even thought about what that would mean and my kid's acting like it's no big deal. Finding those condoms, while fortunate, doesn't guarantee Michonne won't get pregnant. _

"Oh, boy- Carl, we're just living day-to-day. We may have lost one baby already and Michonne…"

"I know she lost André, but- I don't know. Can't we hope?" Carl tilted the brim of his hat back so he could see his father clearly.

Rick sighed and didn't speak for a few blocks. He'd been the one who propped everyone else up to have hope and here he was, denying his son. But it didn't make sense for them to plan a future at a time like this. They didn't even know if Terminus existed. In truth, they'd been very lucky thus far. When he thought all was lost, he'd found Lori and Carl, then the farm, the prison and for these few short days, the house where he first made love to Michonne. And equally important: Carl wasn't treating him like an asshole.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he said taking a look at Carl before he pulled into the vacant parking lot of Jackson's Sporting Goods and prayed this run would be uneventful.

Michonne was behind the wheel while Daryl flipped through a cloth CD holder, looking for the right music.

"Any classical in that thing?" Michonne asked looking straight ahead.

Daryl snorted and resumed his search for the perfect CD.  
"Lotta whattaya call 'em- audio books. Definitely the NPR crowd owned this vehicle. Dave Matthews? My lor…hang on. You like Harry Connick, Jr.?"

Michonne almost swerved the truck as she looked at him with unabashed incredulity.

"You like Harry Connick, Jr.? Really?"

Daryl squinted back at her scowling.  
"Of all people, you're gonna judge me? I don't assume you like reggae 'cause you got them dreadlocks, do I? You just asked me if there was classical music and I didn't say nothin'."

"Touché; you're absolutely right. I'm sorry, Daryl." Michonne reached out to touch his arm.

"I ain't needin' a hug, just pointin' somethin' out to ya; shit."

He slid the CD into the player and they listened to the mellow music as they drove along. At one point, Daryl sang along softly in a low voice. Michonne smiled to herself but didn't acknowledge how sweet she found the moment.

"There they are," Daryl said, pointing to the parking lot.

"No walkers? That's odd, don't you think?" Michonne asked backing into a spot a few yards away from the store.

Daryl nodded in agreement and as they exited the car, slung a rifle over his shoulder.

They approached the door of the sporting goods store slowly as usual, Daryl taking point and Michonne scanning the surrounding area before joining him inside. It was too quiet in the store, but Michonne suppressed the urge to call out to them. Daryl walked around slowly, assessing whether Rick and Carl had even entered the store.

"Too many foot prints in all this dust, but I see what I think might be Carl's boots, "Daryl whispered.

They crept further into the dimly lit store, taking what little was left. Fortunately for Daryl, there were arrows within his reach and he shoved as many as he could into his quiver.

"Dad," Carl whispered to his father in the darkness.

Rick moved past his son to stockroom entrance. He turned around and looked at his son with a grin.

"You were right; it's them."

Daryl was first at the doorway.

"Hey."

"It's a good thing you two followed us- this place has more than we can carry." Rick ushered them into the room and they filled bags with ammunition, more weapons and to Carl's delight, power bars.

As they left the room with their bags, daylight illuminated the main area of the store.

"Well, hello again!"Dave grinned, standing next to his two friends just inside the doorway.

Rick let out a heavy sigh and put his head down.

"We don't want any trouble. Just let us…"

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The three men in the doorway fell to the ground, each hit squarely in the forehead. Rick wheeled around to face his son.

"Carl! You didn't have to…"

"Let's go, "was Carl's terse reply as he walked past the shocked adults with a bag nearly as heavy as he was.

They drove in relative silence, Carl staring out the window as he sat next to Michonne in the back seat. He wasn't sullen, he wasn't nervous, he wasn't anything.

"Hey." Michonne said, shoving Carl with her shoulder.

Carl turned to look at her. His face was blank.

"Some times, some crimes…" Michonne sang softly. It was the theme song for Chip 'n Dale Rescue Rangers.

"Go slipping through the cracks, "Carl sang back softly, his face showing signs of the boy he tried so hard to mask.

"But these two gumshoes…" Michonne returned, smiling gently.

"Are pickin' up the… "Carl burst into tears, falling into Michonne's arms.

Rick spied them in the rear-view mirror and held back his own tears, so afraid of losing his boy again.

They drove on into the night, stopping finally at an abandoned gas station. The rain that had threatened to shower all week finally came with an awful vengeance. Visibility was poor which necessitated them making camp in the old gas station. Rick pulled the vehicle around to the back of the place, well out of sight and he and Daryl went to clear the building.

In the truck, Michonne held Carl's head on her lap. He pretended to sleep for the last 4 or 5 miles and she knew it.

"I'm a monster, aren't I?" he asked her quietly.

"Not even close, my friend. Not even close."

"I just hated those men so much, Michonne. They were the bad guys, right?" He sat up to look at her in the darkness.

"It's hard to tell sometimes, but yes they were bad guys. They wanted to hurt us."

Carl rested his head on her shoulder as he spoke.

"Dad thinks I'm out of control, but I knew what I was doing. I was ready for them. I just...I just…"

"You just don't want anyone in your family to die. I understand that, love, "Michonne whispered into his hair.

"Dad hates me. I disappoint him." Carl sobbed.

"Hey. Look at me," Michonne pulled Carl away from her and looked him in the eyes. "Your father loves you more than he loves his own life. There is nothing you could ever do to make him stop loving you. Nothing, you understand me?"

Carl nodded, still crying.

"Talk to him- see what he has to say about it."

The tailgate to the truck swung open and Rick called to them.

"It's all clear. You two gonna join us?"  
Michonne turned around to face him. "We'll be right in. Carl's gonna help me with my stuff."  
They exchanged a knowing look, Rick retrieved what he wanted and closed the tailgate.

"How 'bout it, my man…you good?" Michonne asked, opening her door.

"I'm good." Carl wiped his nose and took a deep breath.

Michonne appraised him smiling. "Yeah, you're good. Let's eat."

Inside the gas station, it was dusty, dark and as expected, smelly but the rat population was low and there was a small cot in a tiny room. Michonne made the bed habitable for Carl and after they'd eaten, put him to bed and closed the door behind her.

Rick and Daryl sat on the floor and both looked up at Michonne as she entered the room.

She sighed and sat next to Daryl, closer to the makeshift bedroom door. For awhile, the rain on the tin roof was the only sound in the room.

"He's so tired, Rick," Michonne said finally. She looked at her boots then at him.

"I know. I just- I just don't know what to do, how to reach him." Rick clasped his hands on his bent knees and put his head down.

"When he's ready, he'll talk about it, "Daryl said standing and walking to one of the windows.

"Can't see shit in this rain. Maybe that's a good thing- a night like this." He sauntered to the pot bellied stove where the coffee pot bubbled.

He poured a cup and walked back to the window, peering out at the rain with a smile.

"I've always loved it when it rains, though. Merle was afraid of lightning, you know that?  
He swiped his hand across his face and shook his head. "I think I'm gettin' punchy."

"I'll take first watch, "Michonne said. "Get some rest." She stood, stretched and picked up her katana.

Daryl sat in a chair at the counter and put his feet up. "G'nite."

Watching Michonne practice her forms, Rick wondered how things had gone from so normal to what he was experiencing now; a kind of madness, and he wondered if he would ever have any real answers.

At three a.m. Michonne woke Rick to take his watch. He was difficult to rouse, but he greeted her with a weak smile.

"There's coffee. I splurged and opened a can of evaporated milk,"Michonne said handing him one of the mugs she'd brought from their "house". Both Daryl and Rick had told her she was crazy to bring coffee mugs along with them as they were liable to break and were heavy besides, but she'd insisted on some "civilized talismans" and now she felt vindicated because if they needed anything now, they needed something "normal".

Rick accepted the coffee gratefully; "World's Greatest Grandpa" printed on it and he laughed wistfully.

After yawning, stretching and ingesting two cups of coffee, he felt awake enough to bid Michonne goodnight so she could rest up. He knew that she wouldn't sleep; she would watch him under hooded lids for the better part of his watch.

"I remember watching that cartoon with Carl when he was in kindergarten," Rick said to the window.

"I watched it with André." Michonne whispered and rolled over to face the wall.

Rick looked out into the darkness and thought about what the next day would hold for his little family and what would lie ahead at Terminus, their ultimate destination.


	6. Chapter 6

Then next morning was clear and crisp, as if the earth had been cleansed by the torrential rain of the previous night. The bright mid-morning sun was warm on Carl's face as he stood by the truck, helping his father load their belongings.

Michonne and Daryl were still inside the gas station, searching for batteries or anything that would be of use to them. They concocted the excuse to give Rick and Carl time to discuss what happened at the sporting goods store. Carl had awoken during the early morning hours screaming and crying, but when Rick went to comfort him, he only wanted Michonne. To her credit, Michonne gently reminded Carl that Rick was his father and needed to be with him as well. Carl fell asleep with Rick beside him.

"Dad, "Carl sighed, looking at his feet. He was nervous, ashamed and emotionally exhausted, but he knew that Michonne was right to urge him to speak with his father.

Rick closed the tailgate of the vehicle and then leaned back on it, turning his face to the sun, closing his eyes and smiling.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Carl whispered, his voice trembling.

Rick pushed himself off the truck and walked to where his son stood and rested his arm on Carl's shoulder.

"Remember when we went back home and we met my friend Morgan?" he asked gently.

Carl looked up at him and nodded.

"Well, he had a son not too much older than you. His name was Duane and his mom turned."

They stood in silence, Rick rubbing his son's shoulder; both of them looking out onto the road.

"Well, one night, Duane and Morgan were out on a run and got separated. Duane's mom bit him." Rick looked at his son for a response.

Carl's expression changed from shame to alarm. Rick continued, "See, Carl…Duane couldn't shoot his mom. He didn't have the same kind of experiences with walkers that you've had. It's not that Duane wasn't brave; he and his dad were isolated and still held onto the old ways from when things weren't bad like they are now. He wasn't mentally prepared to put his mom out of her misery."

"But I killed Mom." Carl stated.

"Yes, you did. You did what had to be done, "Rick said looking at his son with a soft expression that belied the apprehension he felt.

"I only killed her 'cause she was gonna turn."

Rick released a long sigh and leveled an intense gaze at his boy.

"Those men yesterday? They would have done bad things to us before they decided to kill us."

"So, you know why I did it?" Carl felt a combination of relief mixed with confusion.

"Yeah, I do. I wanted to know if _you_ knew why you did it. See, only you can decide what kinda man you wanna be. Some men think they're strong because they carry a gun, some men think they're weak because they're non-violent. Being a man isn't havin' courage in a fight; it's being afraid and doing what's right at any time…even if everyone else thinks you're wrong – even if you get hurt in the process."

He pulled his son in for a hard embrace, feeling the tension in Carl's body diminish with the duration of their hug.

"You know that I'm proud of the man you're becoming. I know it can't be easy for you growing up this way, but I want you to hear me when I say I love you and I'm proud you're my son," Rick said, his eyes misting over. "I'm proud to be your father."

From the window of the gas station, Michonne watched with a warm smile on her face. Daryl walked by her, peeking over her shoulder at the father and son embracing.

"Ya got yourself a good man, there 'Chonne," he said over his shoulder.

Michonne nodded and picked up the last bag before following Daryl out of their temporary home and to the truck.

As they drove down the bleak highway, Daryl drove with Michonne riding shotgun.

"You guys don't let me drive enough, "she complained selecting a CD from the assortment she and Daryl collected in their travels. "At least let me choose the music."  
She slid a CD in the player and waited for their response. Maria Callas singing "O Mio Babbino Caro" blared – briefly. Daryl put a kibosh on it after the third note.

"Nope," he said popping the CD out of the player. "Try again."

Michonne sang the rest of the phrase a cappella- and it was unpleasant on purpose. She grinned, turning around to smile at Carl.

"No?" she asked shaking her head.

"Uh, no," Carl replied.

"'No', whaaat?" Michonne chided.

"No, thank you."He replied.

"Manners are nice, Carl," Michonne said, turning her attention back to the CD collection.

"What's wrong with country music?" Rick asked.

Daryl grunted his assent, looking at Michonne in earnest.

"Driver gets to choose the music, anyway."

"Always outnumbered," Michonne complained. She slid a different CD into the player and they were treated to the greatest hits of Rascal Flatts, much to her dismay, for the next several miles.

Daryl pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store saying, "Gotta take a piss" and left the others in the vehicle, killing a walker on his way to the store.

"There's never just one walker," Rick said as they all exited the truck with their weapons.  
As if on cue, more walkers appeared slowly trudging towards the convenience store and the truck.

"Ever wonder why Daryl has to announce every bathroom visit?" Michonne asked as the walkers approached.

"Actually, now that you say that, no, "Rick replied laughing.

Michonne shrugged and dispatched the walker closest to her, keeping an eye on Carl, who wielded a hunting knife.  
Daryl came out of the store jingling the public restroom key, and walked to the restroom with little fanfare. He had noticed the walkers, but simply shrugged, knowing that his three comrades were capable enough without him.

When he returned to the scene, they were leaning against the truck pretending to smoke cigarettes with their arms across their chests, in a pose they'd seen Daryl strike many times.

"Everything come out alright there, buddy?" Rick asked dropping his imaginary cigarette and crushing it under his boot.

Daryl walked past him and said to Carl, "You shouldn't be smokin' at your age."

When they stopped to eat cold pulled pork on stale saltines, Rick wondered aloud how far they were from Terminus.

"Well, we kinda had a little detour but I'd say we ain't but 3 miles or so. I tried to follow the train tracks," Daryl answered, licking his fingers.

Although he knew they shouldn't prolong it any longer, Rick said, "We've got provisions and ammo. I'd like to take a day or two to see if we can find the others. It's not a sure bet that they're following the tracks or that they even know about Terminus."

Daryl gave a non-committal shrug and kept eating.

"Michonne?" Rick asked, his eyes saying _I know it's selfish. I know we should just go, but Carl needs more time to heal before he's thrust into something potentially devastating and I want more time with you._

Michonne blinked her face as inscrutable as ever and said, "Whatever you think is best."

Carl piped in with, "We might find Carol or Glenn or…"

"Yep, that's what I was thinking, "Rick cut Carl off with a nod.

That evening, they took the truck as deep into the woods as they could safely and set up camp. With the weather turning cooler at night, they agreed that two would sleep in the truck and two by the fire. As they finished their dinner, they discussed the possibility that the side trip might prove to be fruitless.

"We can't give up hope, though," Carl insisted. He wanted to believe that his baby sister was still alive and being cared for by one of his extended family members, like Beth or Maggie and Glenn.

"If they got out in the bus, it's likely they're at Terminus so even if we don't find anyone or they don't find us, there's still a chance we'll see at least part of the group; we're not losing hope, "Michonne said wiping down her katana.

They all murmured their agreement and fell silent, the crackling fire the only sound. Suddenly, Michonne jumped up and ran to the back of the truck.

"I'm not taking a piss, Daryl!" she called.

Daryl raised his eyebrows at the other two.

"Don't ask," Rick said poking at the fire with a stick.

After several minutes, Michonne returned with a bag of marshmallows.

"You're a piece of work, woman," Daryl grumbled.

Later that night, after the roasted marshmallows and Carl had been put to bed, Rick, Daryl and Michonne sat by the fire.

"This is a fool's errand; I know that," Rick said to no one in particular.

"Maybe not; Beth could be out here. She coulda escaped and wandered…hey, you know what?" Daryl said, his eyes brightening.

"What?" Rick asked sitting up straighter.

"Let's take another detour; I got an idea!" Daryl's face brightened as he provided the details of his plan


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

It was simple enough, they would backtrack to the approximate area Daryl and Beth were last together and commence searching for her using both their knowledge of her proclivities and her survival skills. Given Daryl's tracking virtuosity and the group's combined desire to find Beth, it was sound enough to give them a new-found energy and purpose.

They drove past the area Daryl indicated was the last place he'd been with Beth, parked the truck and proceeded on foot.

Daryl looked at the burned wreckage of the dilapidated shack he and Beth shared and considered what happened there. He frowned to himself. _Shouldn't have been so hard on the girl. Don't know why I got so salty. She's nothin' more than a kid. I had no right yellin' at her like that. She's right; she's just as strong as the rest of us. Just in a different way._

He looked over at Rick, "By now the trail's gone cold, but I bet she left something behind, knowing her. She probably figgered I'd come lookin' for her."

Rick gestured to Daryl to lead and they started walking, each of them on alert for walkers, un-friendlies and hoping for signs of Beth.

Walking along the shoulder of the road, Daryl pointed to muddy tire tracks ahead and jogged lightly in their direction.

"Signs of life, "he muttered. "Let's go."

Once they'd reached a small nondescript town, Daryl slowed his gait. With weapons drawn cautiously, the group moved at a snail's pace, ever watchful for any movement from behind any of the abandoned shops along the main street. There were a few walkers shambling around, but no one paid much attention as they crept up to an abandoned old-fashioned pharmacy, complete with a lunch counter. Looking through the dusty window, Daryl motioned for them to halt.

Like the well-practiced team that they were, Michonne crept to the side of the building, peering in the windows and Carl and Rick served as back-up for Daryl. Seeing no signs of walkers, Michonne returned to the men, her weapon drawn and at her side.

"Well, now's as good a time as any, "Daryl grunted, opening the door.  
They entered the pharmacy like a SWAT team, carefully checking for signs of danger in the form of walkers. Rick slipped to the back room, came back after several moments with an "all clear" and they resumed their search.

Michonne picked through the first-aid supplies while Daryl grabbed the drugs he recognized, mainly painkillers and antibiotics. His brother had taught him well. He tossed the bottles to Rick who placed them in the bag slung over his shoulder. Carl grabbed the last of the comics on a circular rack and stuffed them in his bag.

"I don't wanna spend much time in here, "Rick muttered.

They took their goods to the sidewalk and moved to the other buildings, following the same routine and each time the search was uneventful. Finally, they saw a white clapboard church approximately 30 yards away.

Gunshots rang out before they could decide to proceed to the church. Michonne caught Daryl's eye and motioned to an alley and they all ran after her.

"What the hell?"Daryl muttered, loading his crossbow hurriedly and checking his sidearm.

Carl knelt, shaking as he checked his gun for ammo. Despite the cool weather, he was sweating.

"Take some deep breaths," Rick said, clicking the full clip back into his weapon with a sharp snap. "You okay?"  
Carl nodded. He didn't understand why he was suddenly scared out of his mind.

The little town was noiseless. Michonne exchanged a look with Rick who merely shrugged. Daryl eased himself along the wall of the building across from them in the alley and peered around the corner. He saw a figure in black approaching them and closing the distance at a leisurely pace.

"I know you're there…I'm unarmed. We have your vehicle," the man said evenly.

They collectively held their breath as they stole away, around the back of the building and headed in the opposite direction of the man in black and into the woods.

When they felt they were a comfortable distance from the unknown man, Michonne spoke first.

"They've got our truck. I'm going back."

Rick shook his head no saying, "Not yet. It's too risky."

"Everything we own, including ammo is in that truck. I'm going." And with that Michonne crept off. Daryl moved to follow seconds later.

When Carl attempted to join them, Rick held him back.

"No. Stay here."

"But…"

Rick held his son's arm in a vise-like grip and said nothing. He prayed that Michonne and Daryl would be safe.

"We can't let them get killed!" Carl shouted wrenching his arm away from his father, but not making movement to follow his friends.

"Just give them a chance, Carl." Rick's heart was pounding in his ears and he was wondering how they would reunite with Daryl and Michonne should their mission be successful.

"Aw, hell- let's go!"

He jogged past an astonished Carl and headed back towards the town center. Carl had little trouble keeping up as he was just as anxious as his father to help.

Upon arriving at the main street, they found it empty and quiet. Rick looked for signs of a struggle, but found none. He slapped the heel of his hand to his forehead in frustration and looked down. To his right, just two feet from his right foot, he saw something: one of Daryl's homemade arrows, broken with the arrow point pointing towards the church. Rick smiled and motioned for Carl to follow him back down the alley so they could approach the church unnoticed.

After a tense five-minute walk, Carl and Rick approached the rear of the church rectory where they saw their truck. Rick inspected the contents, which were still intact and there were no signs of blood. He surmised that Michonne and Daryl were alive.

Holding his breath, Rick snuck a quick peek into the only un-curtained window of the dwelling. He scanned the room, the kitchen of the rectory and saw nothing but a few plates and cups on the kitchen table. He motioned for Carl to move around to the other side of the rectory and he followed. The windows were shuttered, providing no way to assess their situation.

Frustrated, Rick leaned back against the building watching helplessly as Carl sauntered up to the front door with his gun at his side.

Quickly, the father followed his son suppressing the urge to throttle him.  
"What are you doing?" he hissed.

"Knocking." Carl said with a shrug. Carl rapped on the door and after a couple of very tense seconds, the door opened and a well-groomed, well-fed, smiling white man of medium build and height greeted them.

"Welcome. Come on in. I'm Francis, "he said ushering them in.

Rick looked to his left and saw Daryl, Beth and Michonne on a sofa. The look on Michonne's face spoke volumes. They had to leave and leave fast._  
_

"I just came to get my friends. We don't want any trouble," Rick said slowly.

"Of course, of course…you're headed to Terminus is it?"Francis asked smiling.

"Who was shooting at us?" Rick asked.

Francis put his head down, "That was Anthony, one of…my people. He shot at your feet."

Rick looked at Daryl whose face was blank. Beth seemed subdued, but not relaxed. There were no obvious signs of trauma, but her eyes were dull. Had she been drugged?

"I'm sure my friends here told you that this girl is also our friend. She belongs with us, so thank you for taking such good care of her, but we'd better be moving on."  
Rick reached for Beth's hand and she shot a furtive glance at Francis then to Rick.

"I'm afraid that's quite impossible. Beth stays with us. You're welcome to as well," Francis said, sitting down in an armchair and crossing his legs and leering at Michonne.

Michonne stood up and took Beth's hand.  
"Come on, Beth. Let's take a walk."

Francis remained seated and watched them leave the house.

Thinking all was well, Daryl, Rick and Carl left by the same door. Outside, they found Michonne and Beth surrounded by men and a few women, two of whom were pregnant and quite young, perhaps in their late teens, with firearms aimed right at them. Michonne held her katana by her side, calculating the odds of her survival should she decide to attack.

"Look- we don't want any trouble. All we want is our friend and we'll leave. Peacefully, "Rick said his voice strong and clear.

Beth whispered to Michonne, "I'm okay, but if you hadn't gotten here, I would have been…He wants to…This place is…" then she shuddered involuntarily.

"We're not in the clear yet, Beth," Michonne said under her breath. "I can't see a way out of this one."

Francis came to the door of the rectory, raised his left hand and at once, the townspeople lowered their weapons.

"I'm very sorry, but Beth is going to remain with me. You see, we're to be wed," he said matter-of-factly and turned back to go inside the house.


	8. Chapter 8

Michonne reached for Beth's hand and gave it a squeeze muttering, "Smile and follow my lead" through clenched teeth and a fake smile of her own.

"Wonderful news; we'll stay then," she said walking with Beth past the group of apparent acolytes.

The color returned to her face and her eyes showed signs of the "old" but weary Beth.

Rick turned to Daryl and Carl who stood with their mouths agape.

"We'll prepare lodging for you," Zipporah, a pregnant girl of about 17 said in a soft voice.

She and the remaining members of Francis' flock departed swiftly and silently, leaving Beth with her friends and Francis.

"Let's have some tea. I'm sure you want to catch up with your friends. Take her to the kitchen." Francis said this while leering at Michonne, who to her credit did not display the contempt she felt for him.

_Did she…was that…did Michonne just bat her eyes at that freak of nature?_

Rick tried to catch Michonne's attention as she and Beth walked past him to the kitchen. When he did he realized instantly what she was up to and relaxed. He shook his head as if trying to erase a bad memory and spoke.

"When's the wedding?"

Francis eased himself into his armchair, smiled and crossed his legs.

"On Sunday, of course; lots of preparations between now and then."

_The smug son of a bitch. _Daryl glared at Francis, tapping the now empty knife holder clipped to his belt. _He ain't gonna survive the night._

"Is that so?" Rick asked. He sat across from Francis in a stiff wing-backed chair and leaned forward.

Francis turned to a side table, picked up the bible and flipped through it until he found the passage he wanted.

"'He who finds a wife finds a good thing and finds favor from the Lord', "Francis read aloud. "Proverbs 18…"

"Verse 22; I know it," Daryl said, glaring at Francis.

"So you're familiar with Scripture. Good. Then you understand how important it is that a woman be free from sin before taking her vows."

Rick leaned back his chair and replayed the scene that just took place outside. _How many guns? How many men? How long had they been watching and listening? Those pregnant women, girls really; who were they?_

"Please sit; you must be weary after traveling so long, "Francis gestured at Daryl to sit on the couch.

Daryl hesitated before moving to sit and continue to glare at Francis.

"So, Francis tell me how y'all have dealt with the walkers for so long. This place musta been overrun with 'em, "Rick wanted to keep the man talking so he could come up with some kind of plan to get Beth out with as little bloodshed as possible.

Happy to share his story, Francis told the men how he lived with some of his "followers" in an abandoned underground shelter a few miles away. One of his neighbors built it, but had no use for it after he and his family were bitten and become "lost souls". Francis put them out of their misery in the "cleansing fires" of a weapon he alone used; a flame-thrower. "It seemed poetic," he said. With the understanding that the apocalypse was God scourging the earth, Francis decided that he was chosen to create a new beginning; he would be father to many, to repopulate the earth with the righteous.

The sound of the whistling kettle brought Rick back; his mind racing after hearing Francis' story.

Michonne and Beth entered after a few minutes with a tea tray and set it down on the low coffee table. Beth stood between Francis and the couch, waiting. Michonne sat next to Daryl.

"You may sit, child, "Francis smiled up at Beth who sat as close to Michonne as nature would allow.

Francis smiled and with a sigh said, "Let's have our tea, shall we?"

That evening, as Carl, Michonne, Daryl and Rick paced their guest room, it was apparent none of them would sleep.

"We've got to get her outta here- and those girls, but how?" Rick whispered.

They all fell silent. It was a sure bet Francis had people spying on them and he kept Beth with him almost constantly. They were in a tight spot and had few options.

"Is he really gonna marry her?" Carl asked finally sitting on the bed.

"Not if I can help it, "Michonne said angrily. She leaned against the wall closest to the window and listened. Someone was out there, walking nearby. She spoke again.

"But, if she's got to marry someone, at least he won't hurt her. He seems like a good man," she said to the amazed faces of her cohorts.

_Go with it, she mouthed._

"Beth don't look abused, at least," was all Daryl could offer.

"Well, we should get some sleep anyway. I'm sure it'll all work out for the best, "Rick offered.

Michonne blew out the candles and the group sat on the floor as Carl closed the window. The moonlight was the only light in the room

"Beth said that this guy is crazy and we've seen that for ourselves. Another Governor, but with a twist; this guy wants to repopulate the planet. Any woman of child-bearing age is a target. He's especially interested in 'mingling' the races. To his mind it will end racial hatred. They go out every morning in search of women. Francis has the women take the newbies, bathe them, dress them in clean clothes and he showers them with praise, affection…" Michonne trailed off, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Has he…?" Daryl asked softly.

"Beth's still intact. That's why he's marrying her – officially. The others take part in a cleansing ceremony before he…does what he does." Michonne put her head down.

"Michonne, I don't want you to…"Rick took her hand in the darkness.

"I can at least distract him. Beth and I might be able to come up with something together. This guy is dangerous. Thing is, there are chinks in his armor. Beth's a smart girl; she's been working on him."

Early the next morning, Michonne performed her usual morning exercise routine outside with Beth. They went through the easier yoga poses, whispering to one another and nodding.

Francis watched through the kitchen window of the rectory. He enjoyed watching them but reminded himself that lust was sinful. He turned the gas burner on and held his forearm over the flame moving it closer until he smelled his own burning flesh. Silently, he turned the stove off and moved to the sink where he ran cold water over the area that would soon blister. Slowly, he walked to the cabinet that held first-aid supplies, retrieved the sliver sulfadine ointment, bandages and tape and tended to his arm.

When he finished, he rolled his sleeve back down, buttoned it and walked to join the women.

"Beth, I didn't know you enjoyed exercise so much; I'm glad you and your friend get on so well, "Francis said approvingly.

"Michonne was teaching me some yoga poses. That's alright, isn't it?" Beth broke from her pose and looked up at Francis adoringly.

Michonne looked at Francis and smiled.

"Healthy body, healthy mind, right?"

Francis seemed lost in thought as he stared at Michonne. His face hardened for a brief moment as he squeezed his forearm and released it.

"Yes. That's true."

"I was telling Michonne that you and I take long walks for exercise and she wanted to come along today," Beth offered, standing next to him.

"Of course; the more the merrier," Francis patted Beth's arm and bid her to lead the way for their morning walk.

Rick, Carl and Daryl walked to their truck and found that most of the food but few of the weapons were gone.

"This just gets crazier and crazier. Whyn't they take the ammo?" Daryl wondered aloud.

"Francis uses fire," answered Matthew, one of the younger men as he ambled up to them. "We don't need much ammo with the flame thrower. My name's Matthew. I'm to show you around."

"He ever use it on people?" Rick asked.

Matthew was a rugged, good-looking kid not much older than Beth. The only flaw in his appearance was a jagged scar across his right hand.

"What happened there?" Daryl asked, pointing to the scar.

"Sin of gluttony," Matthew stated flatly. "I'm to show you around."

"You never answered my father, "Carl said as they walked the property.

"As you can see, we have a garden, some chickens…we still have to hunt, "Matthew said.

Women and men were harvesting the last of the autumnal vegetables as the group walked past.

"How many of you are there?" Rick asked as they approached a barracks-like structure.

"Only about 20; this is where the men sleep." Matthew stood by the barracks.

"I don't see but 10 people on the property and that includes us, "Daryl mumbled.

"The others are in search of medicine, supplies and folks who may need a safe haven. We have a ministry as well." Matthew smiled at them. "We cannot lose hope. We are the only hope for the new civilization to come."

While they walked, Francis between Beth and Michonne, Francis would steal a glance or two at Michonne, who pretended not to notice. Instead she asked questions about Francis, who was happy to regale her with stories of his youth.

"I was a scoundrel when I was a boy; chasing girls, disobeying my mother…then I found the Lord."Francis smiled at Beth. "Now I know how to live a clean life."

"That's good to know," Michonne smiled at him and stopped walking. She looked around and saw that they were followed by two armed men. Her smile faded and her eyes darkened. She put her head down to think.

Mistaking her reaction of disgust for shame, Francis took Michonne's hand.  
"You can start over. You can have a joyful, clean life here."

_Oh, this guy is crazier than an outhouse rat. Michonne thought internally recoiling at his touch._

She looked up at him innocently and said, "I truly hope so."

They resumed walking Francis espousing the virtues of his version of clean living, but careful not to mention his efforts to repopulate the planet with his offspring. Beth walked behind a step so she and Michonne could communicate non-verbally. She would nod when Michonne took the right tone with Francis and shake her head so Michonne would change the subject. It was vital that he trust Michonne.

The conversation turned to Michonne's katana which Francis kept in the living room.

"I'd like you to teach me how to use that sword, if you would," he said earnestly. "I found one like it awhile back. I quite enjoy using a sword as well as fire."

"Well, when we get back, I'd be delighted to teach you. I'm no expert, but I can teach you the basics," Michonne reached for his hand and gave it a light squeeze. She stole a glance at Beth who grinned approvingly.

At lunchtime they all reconvened at one of the tables set up outside behind the rectory.

Much of the food that the survivors had brought in the truck was served, but it was supplemented with the harvested vegetables and strong tea.

"I'll just have water," Michonne demurred when offered a glass.

Daryl, Rick and Carl followed her lead.

"Jus' prefer it," Daryl added.

Francis made no attempt to force them, but his displeasure was noticeable. Beth's glass remained untouched but for a sip or two.

"I'm amazed at how much you've accomplished, Rick. Beth told me how you kept your people alive for so long," Francis remarked stabbing a forkful of food.

"We're a good team," Rick replied casually.

Carl sat quietly next to Michonne, observing everything.

"You get enough to eat?" she asked him.

"Yeah; I'm just tired. I'd like to be excused if that's okay," Carl said.

"Certainly; I'm sure you're still very tired from traveling. Go on, now." Francis smiled at the boy.

"I'm gonna go with him. We sorta have a routine," Michonne said taking Carl with her back to the house.

"Maternal instincts and a warrior; I'm impressed." Francis watched as they walked away.

In the bedroom, Michonne quizzed Carl about what he observed earlier in the day. The night before it was agreed that no one there took much notice of Carl and that was integral to the plan. He could move about relatively unnoticed and obtain the necessary intel.

"They're not very good with their weapons. I saw some guys at target practice. Another thing; most of the guys want to leave."

"Good job. What else?"

"I know where he keeps the flamethrower," Carl said with a wide grin.


	9. Chapter 9

When Michonne returned to the table, she saw that Daryl wasn't there. She looked at Rick who shrugged a half-smile and turned his attention to Francis.

"Thank you for giving Daryl his crossbow. He's one of the best trackers I've ever seen."

"So, Michonne…do you feel up to showing me your skills with that…katana, is it? We'll have no distractions. And I am a most willing student," Francis said as he rose from the table.

Michonne looked at Rick. He smiled at her over his water glass. Daryl must have taken most of the men on a hunt. She saw one man with a rifle guarding them. The women were all washing dishes in the kitchen.

"Let's get to it. I have to tell you now, I am not going to go easy on you," she said jogging ahead of him.

Rick noticed Francis flush slightly and suppressed the urge to hurl his water glass at the man's head, but he smiled and followed behind them.

With her katana in her hands, Michonne instantly felt additional confidence. She slowly went through the forms as a warm up, telling Francis that she would teach him all that he was observing. He watched her intently, his eyes taking in each step, each pattern she drew with the sword.

"I think I'm ready," Francis said eagerly picking up his katana, which Michonne noticed was a display sword, and a knock-off at that. It couldn't cut warm butter. She smiled to herself.

Rick leaned against the side of the building with Beth.

"It's not as easy as it looks. You have to be centered physically and mentally to use the katana. I'm gonna take you through a few things first, so you can put your weapon down."

Francis placed it on the ground and stood next to Michonne. She took a step closer to him which caused him to visibly redden.

As she took him through the paces, Rick observed his son approach them casually, expressionless.

"Couldn't sleep after all, "he said and leaned against the building with his father.

Deep into the woods, Daryl walked with several of the men who had expressed interest in learning to track.

"See that? You got wild pigs in the area. Wanna see can we get us one?"

The men followed Daryl eagerly deeper into the forest. As they walked, Daryl quizzed them in the off-handed manner only a good 'ole boy can. They opened up to him instantly, grousing about their life with Francis.

Daryl grinned to himself. If he played it right, he would have a little army at his disposal.

"What about them others; the ones out 'witnessin''?" he asked as they crept along.

"Oh, shoot. Them fellers is dumber'n a box o' rocks. They'll do anything Francis tells 'em to," Jacob, a man of about 35 said disgustedly. "Only reason they're out there is to get women, really. An' when they get 'em, Francis has 'em first."

"Buncha pussies, "another man, Mitch said. He carried a compound bow with him.

The more Daryl heard, the more he was convinced that they could get Beth out without much of a struggle. They followed the pig tracks further into the woods.

Francis had yet to pick up his sword and he was sweating. Michonne was relentless in her training, keeping him on guard most of the afternoon. She knew that she had to exhaust him and while she too was flagging, she kept the pace.

Beth excused herself to fetch water for them and went unnoticed to the kitchen. Upon her return, she slipped a hunting knife into Rick's hand. He looked down and hid it behind his back, careful not to draw attention.

Michonne noticed Beth standing with two glasses of water and said, "Ready for a break?"  
Francis nodded his head panting and accepting the water from Beth.

"My gosh, this is exhilarating!" he cried guzzling the water.

Rick raised his eyebrows at Michonne who had to stifle a giggle. Francis was clumsy and awkward, but he was dedicated, she had to give him that, the sick bastard.

Carl remained silent and unnoticed. He liked doing reconnaissance and he was pleased with his latest adventure. His placid appearance concealed the excitement roiling inside.

That evening, as they had their final meal of the day, Francis excitedly told his followers, who had increased by one scraggly, hungry teenage girl with long dark hair and a Wednesday's Child expression, of his progress with Michonne.

The hunting trip produced squirrels and not much else, but the hunters agreed that the tracking lesson had proved invaluable to their survival.

"We'll have us a pig for the weddin' feast," Jacob said proudly.

Beth shuddered, but smiled. She was confident that they would make it out, but it was Friday night and the preparations for her "wedding" would commence; soon she would be shut away from the rest of the group until Sunday morning.

Later, in the soft light of the living room of the house, with Carl presumably in bed, the core group sat with Beth and Francis.

"Would you mind singing for me, sweet one?" Francis asked Beth as he sipped his tea.

She looked over at her friends, thought for a moment and began, "Just another homesick child…tired of running' wild…ready to stand trial alone…though I'm guilty in your sight…have some mercy tonight…I can't face it though this fight alone…"

As Beth sang, Michonne's eyes watered. They had to prevail over the man who sat listening to the girl he planned on defiling. She inhaled sharply and collected herself.

When Beth finished, Francis took her hand and kissed it.

"Voice like an angel; and a face to match."

Beth sat next to Daryl on the couch and said a polite "Thank you."

Daryl kept his eyes on Francis the entire night, not saying more than a few words; it was nearly impossible for him to speak with the rage he had boiling inside for the man. After some polite conversation he excused himself first and made for the door.

"G'nite y'all. "

Rick was next with a polite, "I'd better check on Carl"

"You have another song in you?" Michonne asked Beth lightly.

"What should I sing?"

Beth took her time thinking, humming a tune and rejecting it, watching the clock's minute hand slowly travel around. She couldn't stall for long.

"Amazing Grace," Francis suggested.

Beth began to sing "The Broad Majestic Shannon" one of her sister Maggie's favorite songs.

"Take my hand and dry your tears babe, take my hand and forget your fears babe, "Beth sang, watching the clock's minute hand pass again. It had been fifteen minutes since Francis finished his tea. She looked at Francis who closed his eyes smiling at her voice.

He stifled a yawn saying, "Excuse me, it's not the company. Michonne, you really wore me out. I hope to make a better showing tomorrow."

Michonne smiled. "The first day is always the hardest. You're in good shape; it won't take you long, I'm sure."

Francis nodded and leaned his head back. His breathing slowed and soon he appeared to be sleeping. Beth looked at Michonne who shrugged. Michonne stood and leaned over Francis, peering at his face. Turning to Beth she shrugged again.

She straightened up.

"Let's clear the dishes," she said gathering up the tea tray.

As Beth moved past Francis, he reached out a hand and grabbed her arm causing her to yelp.

"That was beautiful, my love," he said releasing his grip and dropping his arm. He began to snore and Beth moved past him quickly with his drained cup.

In the kitchen, Michonne paced back and forth frantically finally calming down enough to place the dishes in the sink and wait for Beth.

"What the hell was that?" Michonne whispered.

"I almost wet my pants when he grabbed me," Beth said in a low voice.

They both giggled softly at the single moment of levity they'd had.

They set about cleaning the dishes on the off-chance that the dose of painkillers Beth and Michonne had drugged Francis with hadn't been enough.

"There's always one woman to put Francis to bed and she'll stay with him through the night. If I go with you right now, and she finds Francis asleep, she'll alert the others," Beth worried.

Michonne thought for a minute and asked, "Where do the women bunk?"

"He keeps us locked in the church. There's only one guard outside, though. There's a woman who selects which one of the others will sleep with him. It's disgusting," Beth said bitterly.

"Okay…I'm gonna wait outside and wait for you at the church. By the time you get there, we won't have to worry about the guard. Be careful." Michonne slipped into the night with her katana over her shoulder.

Beth took a deep breath and returned to the living room to wait with the sleeping cult leader.

Michonne moved swiftly to the church but stopped short as she witnessed two armed men walking in her direction. Hoping that they hadn't noticed her, Michonne doubled back and hid behind the shed not far from the rectory.

Daryl and Rick stood by the window of the bedroom. Carl had gone out secretly and they anxiously awaited his return.

"I should never have let him go alone," Rick said starting to pace.

"He'll be right back; Carl's alright."

As if summoned, Carl rushed into the room with a pained expression on his face immediately after Daryl spoke.

"We've got a problem," he said breathlessly.

Michonne held her breath, waiting for the armed men to pass when they stopped in front of her.

"What are you doing?" the taller of the two men asked her with no emotion.

Michonne remained silent, assessing the situation. They held their weapons casually at their side.

They motioned for her to walk and led her back to the house where Beth sat with the leader of the compound.

When they entered the living room, Michonne glanced at Beth, who sat on the couch alone. Her eyes flicked to the empty arm chair and back to Michonne.

_Where was Francis?_

"Take a seat, "the shorter man said, pushing Michonne down on the couch next to Beth.

The two armed men stood staring at the women, saying nothing. They were devoid of malice; it was almost as if they were apologetic for having disturbed them.

Michonne looked at them and then looked straight ahead, expressionless.

"I'm sorry I conked out on you, "Francis said, entering the room with a crooked smile. "That has never happened to me before. Must have been the exercise."

Michonne said nothing, she stared straight ahead taking long even breaths.

"Liam, Hank - take Beth away. She needs her rest, "Francis told the men and they complied.

Beth caught Michonne's attention wordlessly; Michonne followed her eyes. The katana was leaning against the back of the wing backed chair; out of Francis' line of vision.

The men ushered Beth out and Francis closed the door behind them.

"Alone at last," Francis said as he turned his attention to Michonne.

Michonne locked eyes with Francis as he moved around the room.

"You know, Michonne…I'm a little disappointed," he said moving around the room slowly until he sat next to her on the couch. "I'm not someone who can be defeated so easily."

He made no attempt to touch her yet Michonne felt violated. Leaning back, Francis crossed his legs and smiled.

"Nothing can hurt me. The Lord is for me, you see."

"If you obey His commandments, yes; that's true," Michonne rose, walking to the wing backed chair.

Francis watched her as she walked to the chair and sighed.

"Obey your leaders and submit to their authority," he murmured.

Michonne fell silent as she sat.

"What do you want, Francis?" she asked finally.

Francis leaned forward and closed his eyes, his face softened and as he opened his eyes he said, "I want to do His will, but I need you to help me."

Outside, Rick, Carl and Daryl watched in the shadows as Beth, led by two armed men walked to the church. As they approached the house, Rick sent Carl and Daryl to the back door and moved to the front door, pausing to collect himself before knocking.

The sound at the door blessedly broke the tension and Francis moved to answer it. Seeing it was Rick, Francis, opened the door hesitantly. Michonne stood, moving behind her chair, shielding her weapon from Francis's view.

"Come in," Francis said unenthusiastically.

Stepping into the room, Rick noticed Michonne's posture, saw her grip on her katana, and altered his approach.

"I'm relieved she's here, Francis. When she didn't return to our room I got worried."

Francis stood with his hand on the door, clearly not extending any hospitality to Rick.

"As you can see, she's fine. We're having a private discussion at present."

Daryl picked the lock of the back door while Carl stood with his weapon drawn, scanning the area for any threat.

They slipped inside and waited for their cue, careful not to make a sound.

"Michonne…will you be able to find your way _back_?" Rick asked, his eyes boring into her but smiling pleasantly.

"I'll escort her myself," Francis said and with a hearty clap on Rick's back gestured for Rick to depart.

"G'nite," Rick said over his shoulder, praying that Carl and Daryl had successfully entered the house.

Once outside, Rick crept around the house and joined his son and friend in the kitchen.

"Come sit, Michonne." They heard Francis say quietly. "Just relax; I won't hurt you."

"I'm not worried about you hurting me, Francis." Michonne said her back to Francis.

She had her katana in her grip; her body coursed with adrenaline.

The men crept from the kitchen and from the doorway they watched as Francis with a hypodermic needle in his hand, approached Michonne. With lightning speed, the three survivors entered the room, but not before Francis pierced Michonne's bare arm with the needle. She cried out and leapt back, wielding her katana; she turned, striking Francis in the side.  
Rick grabbed Francis from behind in a headlock and dropped him to the ground, still in control of him.

Michonne began to list to the side, reaching her hands out to steady herself, shaking her head to clear it. She remained upright by sheer dint of her resolve, but after a few seconds she felt herself losing the battle. She looked helplessly around the room, her eyes unfocused.

"Rick…" she whispered crumbling to the floor.

"What was in that needle?!" Rick hissed into Francis's ear.

"Mor…" Francis whispered before passing out.

Carl knelt over Michonne, shaking her.

"Wake up. _Please_, Michonne…"

"We gotta get outta here," Daryl said.

Rick shook Francis violently to rouse him but Francis was out cold.

"Look in the drawer. Maybe there's a vial or something."

Carl wouldn't leave Michonne's side.

"Carl! Look in that drawer!"  
As Carl moved to obey his father's urgent command, the door opened. A man stood in the doorway with the newest addition to the compound.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Something happened to Francis; we're trying to revive him," Rick lied.

"Is he bleeding?" the girl asked.

"Get her outta here!" Rick yelled. He turned his attention back to Francis feigning concern.

The man moved to where Rick knelt and asked, "Why is Francis bleeding?"

Hurriedly Rick concocted a story about Michonne giving Francis another lesson and accidentally stabbing him. The man introduced himself as Damien and knelt down to offer help to Rick.

Daryl leaned down and picked up the needle.

"Why would Francis need this?" he asked.

"Sometimes he takes it so he can sleep."

Daryl noticed that Francis had only managed to administer half of the contents of the hypodermic.

"Must be powerful stuff," he remarked before cold cocking Damien with the butt of his crossbow.

The girl screamed and ran out into the night.

"Now we definitely gotta get outta here," Daryl muttered, binding Damien's hands with a zip tie.

Rick picked Michonne up gently and slung her over his shoulder, her katana in his other hand. As they ran to their truck shots rang out over their heads.

"Beth!" Carl cried. "We can't leave her, Dad!"

Rick's mind was racing. With Michonne out cold for who knows how long, they were down a vital member of their team. He looked at Daryl.

"Bring the truck around to the church; I'll be there in a bit."

With that, Daryl ran back into the night. With shots whizzing by, Carl opened the door for his father and Rick laid Michonne down on the back seat. Once they were all in the car, Rick searched his pockets for the keys. He looked heavenward in dismay. A bullet hit the windshield.

Another bullet skittered off the hood.

"Shit, shit, shit!" he slammed his hands on the steering wheel.

Dad."

"We don't have time to go…"

"Dad."  
Rick turned to Carl who dropped the keys into his father's hand.

In the house, Francis opened his eyes and sat up. He examined the damage to his side; it was minor. He walked calmly to the kitchen and bandaged himself. His hazel eyes flashed with rage.

Buttoning his shirt, he exited the house and strode to retrieve his favorite weapon.

"Now the earth was corrupt in God's sight and the earth was filled with violence," he said, strapping on the flame-thrower.


	10. Chapter 10

_Francis Dunwoody was a man who largely went unnoticed in life before the turn. He had few loyal friends and a girlfriend who dumped him because of his addiction to painkillers; an addiction developed over time due to a painful knee injury that left him on disability. Francis spent much of his free time watching television, reading the Bible, stockpiling pain medication and just before the turn, awaiting trial for obtaining the stockpiled drugs illegally; he'd found and used his cousin's DEA number and called in countless prescriptions and sold them to Phil, his neighbor. Phil was a survivalist who had never served in the military but pretended to be an ex- Marine. The two men shared delusions of grandeur and a healthy addiction to violence and opiates. More often than not, they would discuss their plan for when "it all went down"- it would either be a race war or an invasion like in one of their favorite movies "Red Dawn". Neither of them held out much hope for a race war, as they'd been lackluster racists.  
Francis, high on Flexeril and moonshine spoke about how easy it would be to start a community of like-minded people, with him as their leader, their prophet. He didn't come out and say "cult", but it was enough for Phil to call Francis crazy and stop speaking to him for a time._

_When things went crazy, Phil allowed Francis to join him and his wife in their bunker. Francis expressed no interest in going out on runs with them when supplies got low, so he stayed in the bunker, guarding against attacks that never came. The one time he'd gone with them, they'd found a sweet girl of 17, alone, hungry and frightened and Francis sweet-talked her into joining them. It wasn't long before they were sharing a bed. Melissa was largely uneducated and hung on every word Francis uttered; she worshiped him and he liked it._

_One day, Phil and his wife returned and were ambushed by a group of lost souls. Phil called to him, but Francis ignored his pleas. Melissa ran out to help and Francis let them die. That night, Francis heard the familiar snarling of the undead and went topside. _

_Phil, his wife and Melissa had turned. They were lost souls and had to be stopped. The only weapon available, a flamethrower left by the barn, was within Francis' reach and he grabbed it. Pulling the trigger, Francis set Phil and the two women ablaze. It took a long time for them to burn, but Francis watched, fascinated.  
Emboldened by his newfound power, Francis took frequent trips into town, discovering more people who needed him. He saved them and they feared his wrath. _

_The y took over the church and its grounds as their number increased and Francis began his true mission of impregnating women to fulfill is demented prophecy. He limited his own drug use to evenings; he realized that people were easier to control if they were subdued, so he introduced opiates into their food supply to keep them under his sway. It had been a beautiful beginning for him. Now Rick and his people threatened his peace._

Francis met his closest four lackeys next to the rectory. They were armed, but they looked scared.

"What's going on, Francis?" asked Michael, nervous that his lack of ability would incite the fury of his leader.

"They are upon us, Michael," Francis said through clenched teeth.

A group of walkers approached from the wooded area behind them. As they shuffled towards the men, Michael raised his pistol and shot a heavy-set walker in the chest. Anthony, who carried an assault rifle, finished the walker off as Francis turned a fiery burst on the walker closest to him.

They worked their way to the church, Francis intent on doing away with anyone who stood in his way.

The men ran to the rectory, slowing down once or twice to shoot at walkers but making no progress in impeding their movement.

"Whosoever is not found written in the book of life was cast in the lake of FIRE!" shouted Francis igniting the flame thrower and shooting short bursts at approaching walkers.  
It was clear that they were not his main objective as he strode purposefully toward Rick and Carl.

What he saw caused him to halt the men and watch as the undead surrounded the group.

They ambled toward the church grounds, snarling and moaning. Beth looked out the window and saw Rick's truck. She crept to the back door of the church as the other women huddled together.

"Don't go out there! You'll be killed!" shouted Mary, a wide-eyed older woman with long strawberry blonde hair. She motioned for Beth to come to her.

"I can't stay here, Mary," Beth called over her shoulder. She opened the door to find Daryl and 4 armed men.

Before she could comprehend that Daryl's cohorts were Francis' acolytes, Daryl tossed a rifle to Beth who caught it and ran with them to the front of the church.

Inside the truck, Carl scrambled over Michonne to the back of the truck to retrieve the remaining weapons and ammunition, loading two handguns and a rifle.

"Carl?" Rick called back to him.

"Almost ready, "Carl reached as far as he could to hand his father the automatic pistol.

"Okay, I'm gonna pop the back; come out shooting."

Rick released the tailgate latch and Carl hopped out, aiming and shooting with deadly accuracy. Once outside the vehicle, Rick took a quick glance at Michonne who remained motionless, then turned his attention to the business of stopping the onslaught of walkers.

The shrieks of the women inside the church momentarily distracted Rick; as he looked in their direction, Francis walked closer, his flame thrower casting flames at the walkers. Daryl and his men reached the group and fell to work. Soon, the only walkers left standing were in flames. The men shot them and they fell, the acrid smell of burning necrotic flesh filled the air.

Francis approached the group with a sad look on his face as if he regretted what he was duty bound to do to them.

"If a man abides not in me, he is cast into the fire and he is burned. You cannot be saved."

"Don't do it, Francis." Rick said, pointing his gun at the maniac.

"Nothing will stand in the way of what has been ordained. You must be cleansed by fire."

Daryl shot a look at Rick. _I can take him down. Let me do it._

"For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God," Daryl quoted, edging closer to Francis.

Francis blinked and turned his attention to Daryl.

"Get back," he hissed.  
Daryl moved a step back, looking at Rick who kept his eyes on Francis. There was liquid pooling on the ground behind the crazed man.

"Francis, you know how this is going to end. Just put it down, "Rick said calmly.

"I offered you a safe haven. I treated you with kindness and you repay me with lies and violence. I am the one who will create a new world out of the ashes, not you!"

He pointed his weapon at Rick and pulled the trigger. Rick dove behind the truck, pulling Carl to him as the others watched helplessly, but the flamethrower did not ignite.

After repeatedly pulling the trigger with the same result, Francis ripped the device from his body discovering a hole in the tank. Enraged, he ran for Rick. The door of the truck opened in time to slam into Francis, dropping him to the ground. Michonne stepped out and stabbed him in the chest with her katana.

His eyes wide with shock, Francis struggled,gurgling, and clutching at his chest, Francis soon fell silent.

"Well, shit, "said Jacob walking closer to him and looking over at Michonne. "If that don't beat all."

He then aimed his rifle and shot Francis in the head.

"What have you done?!" screamed Michael aiming his pistol at Jacob.

Daryl wheeled around and shot Michael in the leg. The wounded man fell to the ground in pain.

The other men lowered their weapons instantly, too afraid to fight.

"There's one more in the house," Daryl said to Jacob." We tied him up."

"Leave him be; it's Damien and he's scared of his own shadow," Jacob snorted.

The women filed out of the church crying and hugging one another.

"How could you?" Mary asked tearfully. "He was everything!"

Rick looked down at Francis and back at Mary. He didn't have the words to explain to her that the dead man was a charlatan.

"I'm sorry," was all he could manage.

After speaking with the remaining members of the church group, they decided that they would remain on the church grounds albeit with a different approach to communal living. Although Rick offered to lead them to Terminus, the pregnant women felt concerned about traveling and the men didn't trust that Terminus was a reality.

"We'll take our chances, "Luke, the eldest male said clapping Daryl on the back. "Thanks, man."

Daryl lifted one shoulder and mumbled, "No problem."

Rick stood by his open truck door and turned to Jacob.

"Where in the heck did he get a flamethrower?" Rick asked him.

"Truth be told, you can get a drip torch just about anywhere. We use 'em on farms for clearing brush." Jacob shrugged. "Francis wadn't handy with a pistol."

Daryl snorted as he slid into the driver's seat and cranked the engine.

"Take 'er easy," he said.

On the road, Beth recounted her experiences with the church as Daryl drove. Carl, Michonne and Rick sat in the backseat, Michonne with her head on Rick's shoulder.

"How ya feelin'?" he asked her.

"How do I look?"

"I love you, "Rick answered softly.

"That bad?" Michonne asked with a weak smile.

They drove into the night, stopping finally near a lonely looking cottage. Weary, but with enough energy left to clear the house for a night of sleep, the group exited the truck.

With all of them sitting on the floor of the main room of the four room house, with a fire crackling in the fireplace, Rick pulled his family close and shut his eyes.

Beth raised an eyebrow at Daryl who smiled and said, "I'll take first watch."

* * *

**A/N: I feel like this is the end, but since I've received a lot of PMs about continuing, I might add a couple of chapters. Let me know if it feels like there's more to be said and please articulate it in a way that I can understand. I appreciate all of the feedback; it's been wonderful for a first time fanfic author, so tell me what you want/think. Thanks.**


	11. Chapter 11

_We're just prolonging the inevitable. _Rick thought as he watched his chosen family milled around in their new temporary home. _We've got to get back on the road eventually._

Earlier they'd made the unanimous decision to rest up for a few days before heading back out to find the rest of their group. Beth, although strong in her own way, was still shaken from her experience with Francis. Rick knew that she needed time to get her mind back in the game and honestly, he desperately wanted more time with Michonne before they resumed their roles as Leader and Warrior. There would be precious little time for romance once they found whoever was left of their original group. He hoped to find them all; he'd been pragmatic about it, but in the rare moments he had alone, Rick doubted they would find everyone. So far, they had been fortunate. He didn't want to press his luck- even if that meant losing his baby girl, Judith. Hope could be fatal. Still, deep down he knew she was still alive.

"What's on your mind?" Daryl asked Rick as he sidled up to him.

Rick shook his head. "Everything; what if we don't find anyone else? What if when we do find everyone they're a lot worse off than we are? I'm also wondering how Carol is doing. I shouldn't have pushed her away like that, but at the time I just couldn't justify her behavior. She was a-"

Daryl cut him off mid-sentence. "Look, she did what she thought was right and so did you. Life ain't no cotillion, ya know. I miss her just like you do, but she's strong and if she's learned anything from us it's how to survive. I wouldn't be surprised if we caught up with her anyhow. You can't take on responsibility for everyone. That'll drive you crazy."

Daryl sighed and sat down heavily. "We're all exhausted, man. This time off is good for everyone. Just try to relax a little and get stronger. Wish we could find another wild pig, though. Michonne can burn, can't she?"

Rick smiled at the memory of her ordering them both around in the kitchen like a drill sergeant; confident, relaxed and decidedly feminine. He saw a side of her that increased his attraction to her and missed those moments- even now. She had been the one to slow things down once they had found Beth. It seemed as though she was glad to have another female back in the fold and Rick couldn't deny her the time spent with Beth.

"Yeah…I can still taste that apple crisp. Damn we ate good for a little while, didn't we?" Rick smiled at Daryl.  
Daryl grunted his assent and put his feet up on the chair opposite him.

Carl ran through the house with Michonne close on his heels.

"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it!" he yelped as she took a swipe at him, just missing and staggering into Rick's arms.

"What's going on?" Rick asked as he hugged her close.

"Your son…he's gonna get it, "Michonne muttered with mock anger.

"What did he do?"Rick asked smiling and not knowing why.

"Oh, he knows what he did, the smartass," Michonne said moving away from Rick to sit on the kitchen countertop.

Rick exchanged a look with Daryl, who had no more knowledge than he.

"You're not gonna tell me?" he asked.

Michonne grabbed a handful of trail mix and chomped noisily in reply.

With a sigh, Rick walked away in search of his son. Beth entered and sat next to Michonne on the countertop. She looked much healthier. Her eyes were clear and bright. She had matured and held herself with much more confidence than she had at the prison.

"I'm hungry, "she said to no one in particular.

"Welp, you're a growing girl. No surprise there, "Daryl said standing up. "Maybe I'll take Carl out to scrounge something up."  
"That's probably a good idea. That kid is gonna be the death of me yet," Michonne grumbled. She barely concealed a smile. She and Carl enjoyed teasing one another.

"What the hell did he say to you to get you so riled up?" Daryl asked.

"Ah, he called me 'Mrs. Grimes' and had the nerve to sing that stupid childhood rhyme. 'Dad and Michonne sittin' in a tree.' I couldn't take it. He even started making those smooching noises."  
She hopped down off the counter with a bounce and grabbed another handful of trail mix.

"You mean to tell me you couldn't take a good-natured ribbin' from a kid? Damn, girl. You're gonna lose your rep as a badass."

Daryl looked her straight in the eyes and puckered his lips and made kissing sounds. After seeing the fire in Michonne's eyes, Daryl ran out of the room calling for Carl.

Michonne and Beth laughed.

"I don't mind, really, "she finally said. "I'm just…"

"Private, "Beth said, finishing Michonne's thought. "It's okay. Don't take this the wrong way, but you sorta remind me of my father in that way. I think that's maybe why he took to you before everyone else did. It was deep callin' to deep."  
Michonne considered that quietly and then looked up at Beth who seemed wise beyond her years.

"Ya think?"

"Sure. Daddy spoke his mind, but only after analyzing everything first. He never talked just to hear his own voice. You're the same way. Sometimes I wish I could be like that," Beth answered, reaching for a handful of trail mix.

"That's funny. I wish I could be like you sometimes and express my emotions as I'm experiencing them instead of being in my head so much. Looks like we have a lot to teach one another, doesn't it?"  
Michonne smiled at the surprised girl and walked out of the room.

Later that day, Michonne and Rick went on a supply run together. Daryl and Carl bagged some squirrels and with Beth, remained at the house prepping them for the evening meal. It was up to Rick and Michonne to find the makings of a stew. The house they chose was a change from the others they had used before in that it was in a more rural area and the homes were a good quarter of a mile apart from one another. There were few walkers around, but they were on alert nonetheless.

As they approached the nearest house, Michonne stood still listening as Rick drew his weapon.

"Sounds like only one; that's odd isn't it?"

"There's no rhyme or reason with walkers, is there?" Rick asked as they crept closer to the house.

Michonne opened the door and a lone walker shuffled out. Rick dispatched it easily and entered the house quietly with Michonne close behind.

"Okay, we need any canned goods we can find, batteries, candles…"Michonne whispered surveying the area.

"Got it."

They entered the kitchen to find a pantry with preserved vegetables, fruits and not much else.

"Jackpot!" Michonne said in a hoarse whisper. She began shoving the mason jars in her sack, testing the seal on each jar before putting it away.

"Well, let's see what else we can find before we go- I don't want to be here any longer than necessary."

"I'm insulted," Michonne pouted. "You don't want to be alone with me?"

Rick groaned. "Are you serious, woman?"

He pulled her close and kissed her passionately and just as suddenly, let her go. Stunned, Michonne stood staring at him, unable to speak.

"Feel insulted now?" Rick asked with a smirk. He'd become more confident with her and liked to surprise her as much as she surprised him. He liked the effect he had on her in that moment, but didn't want to spoil it so he turned to rummage through the kitchen drawers.

Michonne gently placed her bag on the floor and crept up behind Rick. Pulling his arm away from the drawer, she turned him around to face her. She slowly snaked his arm around her waist, reached up for him and they kissed.

"I'll never doubt you again," she murmured as he nuzzled her neck.


End file.
